The heart that loved her
by silverbirch
Summary: Dumbledore gives Harry his first job for the Order - to befriend a strange silent girl who could hold the secret to Voldemort's defeat. But, as their relationship grows Harry learns love is never simple. Nor is lust. AU in the spirit of HBP. JKR owns it.
1. Chapter 1

As they walked away from the house Dumbledore couldn't resist a chuckle. 'Well done, Harry, very well done indeed.'

'I didn't do anything, Professor.'

'Oh, but you did. Horace – or Professor Slughorn as we must now call him – only took the job because of you.'

'Did he?'

'Well, who you are.'

'Great, another fan club. Why can't people just…'

'No, I don't mean it in that way, although Horace will be pleased to ad you to his collection, of course.' Dumbledore saw the confused look on the boy's face. 'I will not deny that he likes to gather the well connect and able to him and help them as much as he can. Your mother was one of them and he sees her in you. You have…'

'My mother's eyes. I know. Anyway, are we going to The Burrow now?'

Dumbledore stopped and faced Harry. He took a deep breath. 'No, there has been a change of plans and we are going to Grimmauld Place. Harry, I am afraid I must ask you to help an old man still further. You are still, officially, a minor and not yet a full member, but the Order needs you assistance.'

'Me?' Harry's heart leapt. A job, a task for the Order. He would be taking direct action to try and stop Voldemort whilst working with some of the greatest wizards on the side of the light – Mad-eye, Remus… 'What is it?'

'I shall tell you in the morning, as I have one more task to complete tonight before you can start, but we must get along.' Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. 'I am sure Molly is itching to feed you up.'

'But…?'

'She is there as well, along with Mister Weasley and Miss Granger.'

'Ron and Hermione? Great! Can I tell them about…you know, my job?'

'Yes, they may be able to offer advice…Miss Granger anyway. Will you take my arm?'

Harry had hardly regained his balance after apparating when he bowled into the wall by a lot of brown hair.

'HARRY! Oh, it's so good to see you again; I've missed you so much!'

'Good to see you too, Hermione!' Something about the enthusiasm of her greetings always made Harry feel good, and then Ron was there punching him on the shoulder. He was back with his friends, even if it was in Sirius' house and he had work to do. Harry felt that, with these two at his side, he could achieve anything.

He was led to the kitchen, where Molly said all the usual things about him growing and looking thinner than ever. She sat him down and placed a large plate of stew in front of him, and a loaf of freshly baked bread. His eye glazed, slightly. All was now complete, with Mrs Weasley looking after him. He loved her more than he could ever tell her, and that worried him slightly, but he thought she understood.

The third portion of the deliciously meaty stew had gone, along with half the loaf, and Harry sat back feeling pleasantly full. All he wanted now was his bed. Hermione had other ideas and, with a meaningful look at Ron, she dragged him from the kitchen on the pretence of "showing him to his room". Once inside, the interrogation started.

'So, what happened? Where did Dumbledore take you?'

'To find a new DADA teacher.'

Ron looked slightly disappointed. 'Was that it? We thought it must have something to do with the…'

'So, what's this one like?' butted in Hermione, giving Ron a stare.

Harry shrugged. 'Doesn't seem any better than the others, but it'll only be for a year anyway.'

'Harry! Don't say things like that.'

Harry shrugged, and then gave Hermione a sly grin. 'You'll get on with him anyway; Dumbledore says he likes collecting the clever ones.' Hermione tutted, though she couldn't help but look pleased with the praise. He changed the subject. 'So, what do you know about this other job he's got for me?'

He was met by two blank faces. 'That's why we're here; you're here. Dumbledore wants me to do something for the Order' – Ron whistled – 'and he said I could rope you in. He said you'd be able to help me, especially you, Hermione.'

Hermione shook her head. 'He's not said anything to us, has he Ron?'

'Nope, but a job for the Ordrer, eh? I bet he wants us to keep track of the Death eaters, do a bit of spying, try to…'

'Oh, don't be silly, Ronald.' Hermione sounded like Mrs Weasley. 'He's got people like Moody to do that. Do you honestly think he'd let us do anything dangerous? No, it will probably be research or something.'

'But we always do dangerous things; the philosopher's stone, the Ministry…' Ron trailed off, and got another glare from Hermione.

'We said we weren't going to mention that' she hissed. She turned to Harry, her face contrite. 'I'm sorry. Sirius and the prophecy…how are you coping?'

Harry shrugged. 'I'm coping. What other choice is there. I suppose that, deep down; I always knew what it was likely to say.'

'It's a pity we never got to find out.'

'I did!' Once more he found two blank faces in front of him. 'Dumbledore told me' he explained. 'As it was made to him he was able to tell me about it. Do you want to know?'

'Yeah!' said Ron. 'Blimey!'

'Only if you want to tell us, Harry' said Hermione. 'If you think it wil help?'

'Probably. It said…well, it said there wasn't room for me and Voldemort on the planet. Only one of us can come out of this – what it actually said was "Neither can live whilst the other survives", so it comes down to the same thing.'

'Oh, Harry!' Hermione gave him a hug. 'Are you scared?'

'No, not now. I was at first but, like I said, I've sort of always known. Me or him.'

'We'll help you, mate' Ron said. He sounded nervous, but determined. Hermione nodded in agreement. 'We'll stick with you, no turning back.'

For the second time that night he felt his eyes glaze. They were with him, his friends, and he knew they would always watch out for him, protect his back. With Dumbledore at his side he knew he could fulfil the prophecy. He could defeat Voldemort and live his life, maybe even have a family around him one day.

'Now' said Hermione, in her best "have you started your homework, yet?" voice, 'bed, if we've got work to do tomorrow.'

-o0o-

Harry awoke in Sirius' old room, as the sun reached the window. He lay for a while, looking at the pictures on the wall, and the Gryffindor flag that no magic could remove. He could have lived here, maybe, with his Godfather, if the world had been a different place. If the world had been a different place he would have visited, with his parents.

The world was what it was, and he couldn't change that. The future would be the future that happened, not the one he wanted. Sighing, he pulled back the covers, only remembering as he stood up that this was the day he would find out about his task. He hurriedly dressed and headed for the kitchen.

Although it was early Molly was there, of course, and rushed to make his breakfast. The only other occupant was Dumbledore. He looked very tired, but satisfied with himself.

'Good morning, Harry! I trust you slept well?'

'Very well. What about you?'

Dumbledore nodded. 'I was able to finish my job in time to get a short rest. I need little sleep now that I am older.'

Harry glanced at Molly's back, and lowered his voice. 'So, I can start work then?'

Dumbldore looked at Harry over his glasses. 'After breakfast. I have faced many dangers in my life, but even I would not be rash enough to try to stop Molly Weasley feeding somebody!' He allowed a smile to break though. 'I would appreciate it if that conversation were not repeated in front of her!'

Harry grinned. How he loved this man! Almost as much as he loved Mrs Weasley's cooked breakfasts.

For the second time in less than twelve hours Harry sat back from the table, full to bursting. If love were measured in sausages, Molly would know that Harry loved her more than anyone. It always made her feel good to persuade him to eat just a little more.

He drained his fourth cup of tea, and then looked at Dumbledore. 'I'm ready.'

Dumbledore inclined his head. 'Then we shall make a start. Come with me.'

He took Harry up the stairs, to the entrance level, and led him into a room. The curtains were still drawn and Harry could see little until Dumbledore provided a gentle light. The room was dusty but comfortably furnished. In one of the old armchairs sat a girl.

'Harry, I would like to introduce you to Melatiah.'

Harry looked at the girl, wondering who she was. Was she here to help him as well? Melatiah? An unusual name, to say the least. He didn't know her, but guessed she was roughly the same age as him, perhaps a little younger. It was hard to tell.

She appeared to be quite small and thin. Not thin as in pinched, but …delicately boned. Her face was…average, framed with long brown hair – darker than Hermione's and dead straight. It looked newly washed, but she had done nothing else to it. Her eyes were dark brown, too, and they looked straight at Harry. He could see no emotions on her face. She was neither excited nor nervous at their introduction.

She sat upright, her hands in her lap. She wore a simple dress that looked home made, of a boring grey colour. On her feet she had shoes which could only be described as "sensible". She wore no tights.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of her. It was the lack of any movement in her face that worried him the most. She just didn't look…right. He was aware of Dumbledore at his side, and felt that they were in a pregnant pause. He had to do something, so stepped forward, holding out his hand.

'Hello, my name's Harry.'

The girl didn't move, but looked at Dumbledore instead. He smiled at her.

'This is one of the people I was telling you about, Melatiah. He is going to try to help you. He would like to shake hands with you.'

The girl still didn't move, so Dumbledore did. Very slowly and gently he took her hand, placing it in Harry's. 'This is called a "hand shake"; it is the way people greet each other. Do you understand?' The girl nodded slightly.

'You can let go now, Harry, and I shall tell you her story. Let us make ourselves comfortable.'

They sat, Dumbledore taking off his glasses to clean them and to give himself time to think.

'I first met Melitiah – that is not her real name as I shall explain later – about a week ago when I was contacted by an old witch I did not know. She has never been a part of our society, preferring to live her life way from others.

She found Melitiah, shortly before your parents were killed, in a house that had been attacked by Death Eaters. It was a Muggle house, and my researches have shown there was no reason why they should have been attacked – but so many were. I have no reason to believe this girl has any magical powers.

The witch was about to leave when she noticed a movement under a coat that had been thrown on the floor. Under it she found the girl. She did not know what to do. As I said, she was not part of society and did not want to make herself known to the authorities. Perhaps she realised how lonely her life was because she took the child home with her, raising her as a daughter. It was she who gave her the name Melitiah – which means "saved".

Melitiah has never spoken a word in her life. She can both hear and understand us, but will not speak. It is possible that her silence is as a result of the things she saw that night.

The old witch came to me for two reasons. Firstly, she is getting very frail, and is worried what will happen to the child if she is left on her own. Secondly, just recently, Melitiah has been calling out in her sleep. It is nothing specific, and she says no recognisable words, but awakes distressed.'

All the time Dumbledore had been speaking, Melitiah had sat as before, her hands on her lap. She had reacted to nothing he had said.

'This is the job I have for you, Harry. I would like you to befriend her. I want to know what – and who – she saw that night, and why she has started to have disturbed sleep. I think she may be important to us.'

'But, Professor, can't you do something like… Legilimency or a Pensive? Or something?'

'I have tried, Harry, but a Legilimens – even the best of us – can only gain access to thoughts that are in a subject's mind. Melitiah has locked hers so deeply away she does not even realise they are there.'

'And you think I can help?'

'Indeed. You have a similar background, so can empathise with her situation. Teach her that which she has missed these past years; friendship, laughter. It is my hope that, as she becomes part of a group and opens her mind to new experiences, she will allow us to access her past.'

'You think she's import to us?'

'I do Harry. Perhaps even as important as you.'

Harry looked back to the girl, still sitting quietly as if she had heard the conversation but not realised she was the subject. He wasn't quite sure what to do next. He had very little practise at making friends, especially if they were girls. He'd spoken to Ron, though, almost as soon as they met, and become his friend.

'Does she want some breakfast?' He mimed eating as he said it.

'Harry, she can both hear and understand you. She is not unintelligent.'

Harry blushed. 'I'm sorry.' He turned to her. 'Would you like some breakfast?'

He expected her to either nod or shake her head. Instead, she stood up. He took that to be a "Yes".


	2. Chapter 2

They made their way to the kitchen, Harry not knowing quite what to say to his new "friend". What did you say to girls, anyway? Fortunately, Molly was still there.

'Mrs Weasley? This is Melatiah, she's staying for a few days. Umm…she doesn't talk, but she can hear.'

'Well, that'll make a pleasant change, won't it? Most people talk even when they have nothing to say, and don't listen whether they can hear or not.' She gave Melatiah a warm smile. 'Hello, dear, very nice to meet you, I'm Molly. Now, what would you like for breakfast? Bacon, eggs? I think I'll just do plates of everything and you can help yourselves. Harry, will you go and get Ron and Hermione up, please?'

Harry was quite relieved to go. He thought he would need some help with this one. He kicked Ron's door open and bellowed 'Your mum said get up now'. Ron's answer was short, sharp and to the point.

He approached Hermione's door, opening that too. 'Mrs Weasley's cooking breakfast and she said to get up.'

Hermione stretched and smiled. 'I'll be down in a minute.'

'OK. How comes your room smells better than ours do in the morning?'

'It's because I'm not a boy. Now, if you wouldn't mind?'

'What?'

'I'd like to get up and get dressed, Harry. Without an audience.'

'Oh, OK. How do you manage in the dorm?'

'They're girls.'

'Oh, right. I'll see you downstairs.'

Once they were assembled around the table Harry introduced Melatiah to them, saying that she would be staying for a few days. Then the conversation just drifted as they caught up with what had been happening over the past weeks since they had broken up. Harry managed just a few more sausages and some scrambled egg.

After breakfast they assembled in one of the downstairs rooms, wondering what to do next. Ron made the first effort.

'So, Melatiah, what do you fancy doing today?'

She looked at Harry, who once again explained that she didn't say anything. He looked at Hermione, with his "please help me with my homework" expression on his face. She went to sit next to the girl, giving her a smile.

'Melatiah, we normally have a chat first thing to decide what we are going to do during the day. Do you have a routine?'

The girl nodded slightly.

'What do you do?'

Melatiah looked around the room, but not in a random way. She started at the ceiling and working down, moving her hands in a circular motion.

'OK, we'll come back to that. How do you ask for things?' There was a confused look. Hermione glanced around the room and saw a book. 'Suppose you wanted me to pass you that book, how would you ask for it?'

Melatiah stood up, walked across the room, picked the book up and then came back and sat down again.

'Alright. What if I asked you if you wanted chicken or fish for dinner?'

Melatiah pointed.

'You never speak at all?'

Melatiah shook her head and looked sad. Hermione patted her hand. 'It's OK, we'll work something out. Harry, why don't you show Melatiah around the house? You'll need to sort a room for her as well.' She turned back to the girl. 'Where are you cases? We'll get them to your room.'

Melatiah looked confused, and turned to Harry. He wondered why she kept doing that. Then he remembered her looking at Dumbledore when she didn't understand something. Maybe she just latched onto the person she had known the longest. Harry wondered how intelligent she actually was.

'Cases' he said. 'Your luggage. Where are your clothes?' Melatiah touched her dress. 'Yes, that's right, clothes.' She touched her dress again, and held up one finger. There was silence.

'Harry, I think she's telling us that she doesn't have any luggage. Is that right, Melatiah?' There was a nod.

'No clothes?' said Ron. 'That's mental. Everyone's got clothes.' The girl looked sad, and Hermione gave Ron a look.

'Take her and show her the house, Harry. We can sort out the clothes part later. Can I have a word please, Ron?' Hermione and Ron left the room. Harry thought he heard a slapping noise as the door shut.

'Hermione's right; she normally is. I'll show you round the house, and we can work on clothes later. Come on.'

It helped having something to do, something where Harry could talk rather than try to have a conversation. He showed her the whole house, including how to avoid the portrait in the entrance hall, eventually arriving at a spare room quite close to his.

'I suppose you can have this one, but I'll check with Mrs Weasley first. It's got a bed, anyway.'

Melatiah looked around it, running her fingers over the top of the bedside table and wrinkling her nose. She made the same circular motion she'd used earlier. Harry shrugged. She pointed to the table and made the circular motion again over it.

'You want to dust?' She nodded and smiled. 'I'll ask for some cleaning things. You actually want to do cleaning? Wow.' He smiled. 'I think you'll get on fine with Mrs Weasley; she likes cleaning, too. She's always on at us for not helping enough. She's Ron's Mum, by the way.'

Melatiah looked down at the floor and Harry though he could see her eyes getting bright. He put a hand on her shoulder. 'I know. I haven't got any parents either. They were killed, like yours were. I miss them, but I've got friends, and Mrs Weasley.' The girl nodded. 'And you've got us. We'll try to help you, yes?' She nodded again.

'Now, was Hermione right? You don't have any clothes?' Melatiah shook her head. 'Just that one dress?' She nodded. 'That doesn't seem enough. Have you got any money?' She looked at him, clearly not understanding. 'Money. Galleons and Sickles.' He put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a few coins and showing them to her. 'Money. You buy things with it.'

She took some of the coins, holding them up to look closely at the designs. It was obvious Melatiah had never seen them before.

'That's not a problem. We'll get some, and use it to get you some new clothes. Umm…I'll ask Hermione to take you.'

The girl tensed, and shook her head. 'What? What's wrong?'

Melatiah pointed to herself, then Harry. 'You want me to come along as well?' She pointed to herself and Harry again, then made a crossing motion with her hands. 'Just me and you?' She smiled. 'I…well, I don't really do shopping, especially girl shopping.' He scratched his cheek. 'I wouldn't know what to buy. Can't we take Hermione?' Melatiah shook her head. 'Do you know what we need to buy you?' Another shake.

Dumbledore had said this was a task to help the Order. He'd specifically given it to Harry to do. Become her friend, get her to open up.

'I'll have to ask her for advice, though. You don't mind me doing that, do you?' Melatiah smiled.

Harry was starting to like it when she smiled at him. She wasn't a beautiful girl, not really. She wasn't a troll, or anything, just not beautiful. Pretty, maybe – when she smiled. And perhaps if she wasn't wearing that horrible dress it might help.

-o0o-

Hermione sighed, not for the first time.

'Harry, this isn't a NEWT subject. Look, you go to a shop, and you buy clothes for her – with her. She can tell you what she likes.'

It helped that Harry had managed to get Hermione on her own, so they could talk freely. It was just the subject matter he struggled with.

'Like what?'

'Jeans, T-shirts, maybe a couple of sweat shirts, trainers. You know, clothes.'

'Yeah, alright. I can probably handle that.'

'And underwear, of course.'

'WHAT!'

'Bras and knickers' said Hermione in a very matter-of-fact kind of way.

'NO! Hermione, please? Please don't make me do that. I can't.'

'Why not? They're only clothes.'

'I can't walk around a shop looking at…girl's under things. People will think I'm some kind of…odd.'

Hermione put her hands over her face and giggled. 'Oh, Harry! What's the difference between knickers and underpants?'

'How do you know about underpants?'

Hermione burst into a fit of giggles again. 'Just go, O Chosen One! Honestly, you can face death, but not lingerie?'

-o0o-

Dumbledore sided with Hermione and said it would be perfectly fine for Harry and Melatiah to go shopping on their own. Unfortunately he was mainly thinking about the risk aspects of the trip, and doubted that there would be any danger on that front.

Ron punched Harry on the shoulder before they left. 'Good luck, mate. I'll be thinking of you.'

The trip was stressful for both of them. Harry came to the conclusion that they had gone far too quickly and thrusting the girl outside so soon was a big mistake. He was right; they should have got some clothes for her, and given her time to adjust to her new circumstances.

They walked from Grimmauld Place to Oxford Street rather than take the tube. Harry could cope with that on his own, but didn't want to be responsible for anyone else. It was probably a good job they didn't.

Melatiah had been brought up in almost complete isolation, rarely leaving the house. Her adopted mother had hidden her away, not for any bad reason, but for fear of discovery by either the Ministry or Voldemort's followers seeking to complete whatever job they had started. In consequence, the girl knew nothing of the world beyond the house and garden she had been brought up in.

She had never seen crowds of people and did not like them, or the noise they made, and Harry had to stay very close to her, giving constant reassurance. Melatiah held onto his hand throughout, and grabbed for him every time a car sounded its horn. He found himself constantly explaining what they were hearing and seeing, but it was not easy.

Melatiah could understand speech, but struggled with concepts. There was no point telling her this was a "car", that was a "lorry". They were simply words and he may as well call them "voiture" or "laster", for all she understood them. So he had to change tack, allying the word to an explanation that they were things people used to go somewhere faster than walking. She nodded at that.

And so it went on. A "Zebra crossing" was a place you used if you wanted to cross the road and wanted the cars to stop moving. Every time he explained something in a way she could understand he was rewarded with a smile and a nod. He liked that; it made him feel protective of her, that he was looking after her. She was like having a little sister.

They eventually arrived in Oxford Street and Harry started looking for the department store Hermione had recommended they use. It was one of the chains that sold good quality clothes at reasonable prices; and Hermione tended to shop there herself. She couldn't resist another giggle when she pointed out it was very good for _underwear_.

He saw the shop, and his heart started to beat just a little faster. This was going to be embarrassing. Then he saw a burger shop close by so decided they could put off the inevitable for just a little longer.

'Lunch' he said, with some relief. Obviously it wasn't that easy, as Melatiah couldn't read – understand – the menu. He ordered for her, getting them both burgers, chips and milkshakes. It was fun watching her explore. She knew it was food and drink, but he had to show her how to drink from a straw. The look of surprise on her face as the cold liquid hit her mouth made him laugh.

She obviously liked the taste of what she had, because he smiled a lot at him. At one point some sauce dribbled out of the bun and down her cheek. Without thinking Harry reached forward to wipe it away with his finger. She looked at him strangely; she wasn't scared, but thoughtful. Then she smiled. A little later she did the same to him. It felt nice.

Before long the food was eaten, and the cups empty. He couldn't put it off any longer; it was time to go. Hermione was wrong; he didn't face death bravely. He'd been scared when they went to the Ministry, just as he'd been scared during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Just like he was scared now.


	3. Chapter 3

With a final deep breath Harry pushed open the door and they stepped inside. Melatiah stopped and stared; she had never seen a building this large before. She gripped Harry's hand tightly because she was scared that if she lost him, she would never find him again.

Harry headed towards some racks of dresses that he could see quite close to them, but they didn't look right somehow. They walked around for a while, but Melatiah didn't really do anything. Eventually they ground to a halt.

'Well, what do you think?' he asked her. She wobbled her head a little. 'I know what you mean. These are the sort of thing Aunt Petunia would wear. She's a person I know.' He looked around a little desperately. 'I can't see anything that Hermione would like, but she said she comes here.'

Although he couldn't know it, Melatiah was thinking the same thing. She had realised they were going to get her things to wear, although had no idea it would be in a shop – or even what a shop was like. Her clothes had mostly been home-made until now. But she knew what she wanted; things like Hermione had. Hermione was the first girl her own age she had met, so was automatically the role model. Harry hadn't noticed what T-shirt Hermione had put on that morning, but Melatiah did. It was bright green.

Fortunately they were overheard by one of the shop assistants, who had children of roughly the same age.

'Excuse me, Sir. May I suggest you look in our "MissTique" section, on the first floor? Turn left at the top of the escalator.'

'Thank you' said Harry, with some relief.

When they got to the escalator, Melatiah froze. 'It's alright' he said to her. 'These are like stairs, but they move. Professor Dumbledore's got something like it at Hogwarts.' He paused. 'That meant nothing at all to you, did it?' Melatiah shook her head, and then they both smiled at the ridiculousness of it all. 'It doesn't matter. I've seen these before and they're safe. Just come with me.'

Harry took her hand firmly and led her onto the bottom step. She wobbled slightly, so he automatically put his hand on the small of her back to steady her, leaving it there slightly longer than he had to. In fact, he only just remembered to warn her they were at the top and had to step off. They turned left. This looked more promising.

Melatiah stood still for a moment. Then she let go of Harry's hand and walked forward – very slowly. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The colours! Each time a colour caught her eye another would tempt her. Red here, yellow beyond it. Blue the other side. It was like the garden in summer. Colours everywhere. And then green! She walked over and picked up a green T-shirt, just like the one Hermione had worn. She turned to Harry, her eyes shining.

'Yeah,' he shrugged 'if you want it.' He saw her shoulders droop, and the excitement leave her face. What had he done wrong? Of course! Girl! 'It's nice; I like it. Umm…it looks good with…your hair?' The smile came back to her face. 'I really like it, actually. Hold it up against yourself.'

Hmm…it didn't look right. 'I think you need a different size, though.' He checked the label. 'This is a medium, see? You're probably a small.' He showed her how to check, and then found one the correct size for her. That was better.

Hermione had been right, obviously. Melatiah knew what she liked, and Harry was just there to confirm it. The first couple of things she picked up he nodded and said something complimentary, each time receiving a smile. Then he found a sweatshirt that he liked and showed it to her. She took it, but frowned slightly.

'You wear it over the top. Do you know what a jumper is?' She nodded. 'Well, this is like a jumper. Try it on.' She did. 'Yes, I like that.'

The found a few more tops, and then started to look for jeans. Now he was struggling. What size was she? How did he find out? At Madame Malkin's a lady helped you; maybe they did that here, too. He looked around and found an assistant. She took the measurements, after Harry explained that he had to do the talking.

'A size 8, medium, should fit. Would your friend like to try them on?'

'She can hear' said Harry. He turned to Melatiah. 'Go with the lady; you should try them on, really.'

Melatiah took hold of his hand. 'I can't come with you. OK, I'll come to the door, but I have to stay outside.'

He felt rather self conscious standing outside the dressing room, trying not to look at the women as they went backwards and forwards. There were a couple of other men standing there as well, and they gave him a comradely smile; the one that said "Get used to it, son". He felt heartened by that.

Then she was standing in front of him, wearing her jeans and the green T-shirt. Harry was taken rather by surprise. He could see more of her than he could when she was wearing her shapeless grey dress, and she looked…different. He couldn't have stopped himself smiling any more than he could stop his eyes opening just a little wider. 'Nice! You look…very nice.' Melatiah smiled a different smile. Almost a little shy, or maybe he just imagined it.

After she had changed back they moved to the shoes, and quickly found her a pair of trainers. Nearly there.

'Right, shall we pay for these and get back? It must be almost tea time. We don't want them to worry, do we?'

Melatiah looked at him.

'You've got lots of new things already.'

Melatiah looked at him.

He sighed. 'OK, let's go. I think they're over there.' She knew that, and took his hand.

The shop had a suspended ceiling. The bars were probably aluminium, he thought. The colour looked about right anyway and he was sure aluminium was lighter than steel. The ceiling tiles were a sort of off-white and textured. If he shut his eyes slightly and looked really hard he was sure he could see the pattern of a …She was tugging at his hand. When he looked at her she pointed, with an expectant expression on her face. He followed her finger.

MERLIN! DID THEY REALLY WEAR THINGS LIKE THAT?

Harry found himself staring, mesmerised, at a bra. He knew girls wore bras, of course. Sometimes, when Hermione leaned forward to point out something on his homework, he caught a glimpse inside her blouse…before looking away quickly. Hers tended to be white, though.

This one was pale blue. It was…like the net curtains Aunt Petunia was constantly twitching. He could see through it to the strap behind. And there were lacy bits around the edges.

Did Hermione wear things like this? Like this actual one he was looking at? Harry suddenly found himself trying to imagine what she would look like, standing in front of him wearing a bra. Where had that come from? Hermione in...a…blue…lacy…bra. He felt the familiar tightening in his groin.

Hermione? That'd never happened before. Parvati. Cho, obviously. Even Pansy Parkinson, once…or twice. But never Hermione. Why now? Maybe it was her saying about getting dressed without an audience. Why should that bother her? They'd been friends for years. She was just a friend…who happened to be a girl. Who might wear…'Sorry Melatiah…what? Oh!'

She'd seen him looking – staring - at the bra and thought he must really like it, so now she was holding it up in front of herself.

'Yes. Yes, very…' He looked away, hyperventilating slightly and hoping he wasn't too…obvious. He wished he had something he could hold in front of himself. 'You should get it.'

There was a slight cough behind him and Harry turned to see the assistant from earlier.

'I think that may be too big. Do you know your friend's bra size?' She just said it straight out, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to talk about!

'No, of course I don't! I'm not a pervert!' Why did he have to say that? Now the assistant was looking at him.

She gave him a rather patronising smile and turned to Melatiah, holding the tape measure. 'It would be best if I measured you properly.' Melatiah nodded. The assistant gave Harry a very pointed look. 'If you wouldn't mind just turning around for a moment?'

'Oh, of course!' Harry went back to studying ceiling tiles.

'32A' said the lady, eventually. 'I think we have…yes, there you are.'

'Can we go now?' said Harry, a note of desperation in his voice. Melatiah was still searching the aisles. 'You've got one.'

'We normally have more than one' said the assistant. 'Women tend to like wearing clean clothes. Three is quite usual.'

'Three? Two more?' This was a nightmare that would never end. It did give him a good excuse to have another surreptitious look at the other designs, on the other hand, and there was a sort of guilty pleasure in it all. Harry thought he might need an early night. He certainly would after they moved on to the knickers.

Harry was astounded. They were nothing like Y-fronts at all! It was all silk and skimpiness. And he had images of Hermione wearing just a bra and knickers to contend with now. His mouth was suddenly very dry and he had to swallow hard. She must wear knickers, unless…Oh no! Don't even think that one! No, she must.

'Have you got enough now?' He was aware his voice was incredibly squeaky. Melatiah smiled and nodded. 'Good, let's pay and go home.'

They didn't go straight home. As they passed the burger bar Melatiah tugged at his sleeve and mimed sucking at a straw. Harry laughed. Now he was outside in the fresh air he felt a little better.

'You want another milkshake?' She nodded, smiling widely. 'OK, let's go in.'

They sat at a table, slurping their drinks. Melatiah keep looking at her bags.

'Did you enjoy that?' She nodded. 'You got some nice things. You should wear them tonight so the others can see them.' He paused for a moment. 'Melatiah, I'm glad you had a nice time. I like seeing you happy.'

She reached her hand forward and touched his face, then looked away. Harry thought she might be about to cry, even though she wasn't upset. Girls sometimes did that. He put his hand over hers. 'I understand.'

-o0o-

Harry flopped into a chair.

'How did it go, mate?' Ron was looking at him with something approaching awe on his face.

'Oh, it wasn't too bad' said Harry. He tried to sound blasé about it all.

'Rather you than me.'

'It's something you have to put up with, isn't it? It's mostly just hanging around being bored. Fancy a game of chess?'


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was quite glad to sit down for dinner that night; it had been a long day. It was only the four of them, and Mrs Weasley. She'd cooked extra, of course, "just in case". It was as he reached for the potatoes that a thought struck him.

'Where's Ginny?'

Mrs Weasley was just about to change the subject when Ron spoilt it all by snorting into his pumpkin juice.

'She's staying with my Aunt Muriel' said Molly, with a warning look at Ron.

'Why?'

'Professor Dumbledore suggested it' said Molly, in what was obviously meant to be a final tone.

'But why?'

'Because.' She realised it wasn't going to work. 'Oh, all right. He said you'd be too busy.'

Ron snorted again. 'You can probably guess that pleased her!'

'With Melatiah? Why should that stop Ginny being here? She could be her friend, too.' Harry was confused, and then he noticed Hermione looking at him. Her face clearly said "Shut up".

'So, Melatiah' she said, 'your shopping trip seemed to go well. I like your top. Did you choose it?'

Melatiah was wearing the sweatshirt Harry had picked up. She pointed at him.

'He picked it!' said Hermione in surprise. 'Harry, there's hope for you yet!'

'Ha ha. We got some nice things, didn't we?'

Melatiah nodded and smiled. She took off the top and showed them the T-shirt, the same colour as the one Hermione was wearing. Hermione smiled. 'I like it!' She was rather touched by the inferred compliment.

Then Melatiah tried taking that off and Hermione only just stopped her in time. 'We don't need to see everything.' She saw the look of confusion on the girl's face. 'We just don't. Only the things you'd normally see, not what goes underneath.'

Melatiah was still confused; the T-shirt had been underneath. Harry came to her rescue by telling them about the visit to the burger bar, and the moment passed. It left that little germ in his mind, though. He wouldn't mind seeing what it looked like on. One thought led to another, and he starting wondering what Hermione was wearing. Covert glances didn't tell him much at all. She was wearing something, but he couldn't tell what.

They rolled away from the table, eventually. Ron had asked Melatiah if she knew how to play chess, and she'd nodded. He asked her if it was wizard chess, and she nodded again. He'd offered her a game and she agreed.

As they disappeared into the living room, Hermione stopped Harry. 'Is there something you wanted to ask me?'

'No' said Harry, surprised.

'It's just that you kept looking at me all through dinner, so I was wondering…Ginny, maybe.'

Harry gave a rather guilty start; he thought he'd been very careful. 'Yes, Ginny…that was it.'

'I think Dumbledore wanted her out of the way. I couldn't work it out myself at first, but now Melatiah's here it sort of makes sense.'

'What makes sense?'

'Oh Harry! He wants you to get close to her without any…distractions.' She sighed. 'Ginny likes being around you.'

'Does she?' He gave a slight grin. 'Really?'

'Yes, she does.' Hermione reached forward with one finger, and lifted Harry's chin. 'And speaking of distractions, try talking to my face.'

Harry blushed deep red, not even realising what he'd been doing. He tried to stammer out an apology but Hermione just said 'Boys!' and headed into the living room.

Harry tried to put all thoughts of girls out of his mind for the rest of the evening as he had a feeling that Hermione's next warning would be a little more direct. Harry thought it was unfair. After all, it was hardly his fault if girls walked around thrusting things under his nose.

He forced himself to concentrate on the chess match; Melatiah was giving Ron a good run for his money. Though it was obvious he would win eventually he'd have to work hard for his victory.

'And another thing…' said Harry, surprising himself as much as anybody.

'Two thoughts in one night! That must be a record.' Hermione was giggling into a cushion.

Harry treated that comment as maturely as he could, whilst remembering to look at Hermione's hairline.

'How comes Melatiah can play Wizard Chess if she isn't magic?'

Even Hermione had to think for a while. 'Maybe it's like a Fidelius Charm; we can see this place only once we're introduced to it. Perhaps the pieces will work for you once you know they can.' It seemed logical, and Hermione had said it, so Ron and Harry both nodded.

Whatever the reason, Melatiah was certainly able to control her pieces, as she proved by beating Harry in the most spectacular fashion in the next game. Ron looked very impressed, and complimented her on her skill, which made Melatiah blush. Harry decided she looked lovely when she blushed.

It had been a long day, and a fairly short night previously, and Harry soon found himself trying to stifle yawns. Eventually he gave in and announced he was going to bed. Melatiah stood up when he did.

'It's alright. You can stay up with these two if you want.'

Melatiah shook her head, and yawned as well, so they made their way to their rooms. Outside, Harry stopped. He wasn't quite sure what to do next, so he said "Well, good night" and held his hand out for her to shake. He thought that wasn't quite right but didn't know what to do instead. She smiled at him as she went into her room and closed the door. Harry started at it for a while before turning to his room.

Sleep didn't come easy to him. He felt…very mixed emotions.

He couldn't quite decide on Melatiah. But he was starting to feel protective towards her in a way that made him want to put his arms around her, and maybe more. Did he fancy her? Why not? She was attractive, and nice, and quite fit and she obviously liked him.

She was nice, but it was his job to look after her. Would that be breaching the trust Professor Dumbledore had put in him? He was meant to get close to her and see if he could open up the thoughts she had buried, not try to snog her. And, if he did, then what? Nothing had been said about what was happening to her when they went back to school. What if they fell for each other, and then she had to go away? Would she think he'd used her? She couldn't come to Hogwarts, could she? There'd be no point in that. Maybe Harry could suggest she live with Molly, who had been kind to her.

Which brought him on to Ginny. She wasn't here because the Professor thought she might be a "distraction" as she liked being around him. Ginny fancies me! But she's going out with Dean, so how can she?

Harry wasn't quite sure how Ron would react, either. He didn't seem to approve of her having boyfriends. Anyway, Harry decided, he couldn't go out with her and Melatiah at the same time. It would work at school but all get a bit confusing during the holidays. So he might have to choose, which wasn't easy. Melatiah or Ginny?

Or Hermione?

Harry sat bolt upright. Where did that come from? Why was he suddenly thinking about her all the time? In her underwear? He threw himself down on his pillow. He had to get rid of this sudden obsession of his of seeing his best friend wearing next to nothing…which would probably look very…very…especially blue…

A few minutes later Harry was sound asleep, albeit a little sticky.

-o0o-

He was awoken rather abruptly the next morning when Hermione put her head round the door and shouted 'Good morning, sleepyhead!'

Harry rolled over and fumbled for his glasses. 'Time?'

'I take it I'm meant to create a sentence around that myself, am I? It's nine o'clock and Mrs Weasley is starting on breakfast soon. You might want to have a shower – and open the window in here.'

'Is Melatiah awake?'

'No. I'll give her a call now.'

'I'll do it.'

'It's alright, Harry. I can cope.'

Harry made his way downstairs after his shower and went straight to the kitchen, taking his seat next to Melatiah, who gave him a big smile. That was a nice start to the day, almost competing with the smell of bacon.

He was on his third round of toast when the kitchen door opened and Dumbledore walked in, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour. Dumbledore gave Harry a "don't worry" smile, which immediately got Harry worried.

The Minister gave them a curt smile and refused Molly's offer of breakfast – several times.

'I've come to see Mr Potter on official business. If I may have a word, Harry?' Harry stood. Hermione and Ron immediately joined him. 'In private.' They sat down again.

Harry followed Scrimgeour from the kitchen, with Dumbledore in tow. The minister looked irritated. 'I did say "In private", Albus.'

Dumbledore gave his most innocent smile, fooling nobody. 'If this is what I think it is, Rufus, Harry is still a minor and should be represented.'

'You are not his official guardian.'

'I can ask the Dursleys to attend, if you wish.'

'Mugg…very well. Come along.'

'You are most kind.'

They went to the same room they had used yesterday. The Minister indicated Harry should sit as well, and then took two pieces of parchment from inside his robe.

'The first is a formality, but important none the less.' He handed Harry the scroll. 'It officially finds Sirius Black innocent of all charges against him, and strikes his conviction from the records.'

Harry took the document, feeling empty. Sirius was a free man, without a stain on his character. Sirius was dead.

'Nice, but rather pointless. Of course, if the Ministry had done this two tears ago – rather than branding me a liar - he'd still be here. Still, I suppose it makes a memento.'

Scrimgeour held his tongue. He never got on well with stroppy teenagers, especially ones who thought they knew everything.

'It is more than a memento. Actually it is rather important.' He held up the second scroll. 'This is his Will, which can now be actioned as the writer is not a criminal.' Scrimgeour was gratified to see that had shut the boy up.

'It is a very simple Will. Sirius Black names you his heir, and sole beneficiary.'

'Can it be challenged?' Dumbleodre asked.

'Doubtful' replied the Minister, who was not surprised Dumbledore knew the contents. The interfering old fool has his finger in every pie. 'Only the Black descendants could legitimately make a challenge and Bellatrix Lestrange is hardly in a position to do so. Narcissa Malfoy is not much better off. Anyway, Mr Black struck those two, and her son, from inheritance by name. Andromeda Tonks, or Ton…Nymphadora, may be in a stronger position. It would then be for the Wizengamot to decide.

However, the Will was properly drafted – Mr Black was scrupulous in his choice of solicitor and witness.' He gave Dumbledore a shrewd look. 'I could not see a serious chance of it succeeding.'

He stood up. 'So, there you have it. You have become not only a very rich man, Mr Potter, but the heir of the House of Black – including the property and titles.'

Harry looked up. 'Titles?'

'The Blacks were a very old family, Mr Potter. In former times the distinction between magical and muggle was not so sharply drawn. Most of the old families have titles more usually associated with the non-magical world.

Perhaps I should bow as, in theory, I am now addressing the Marquis of Grantchester and the Laird of Dhuwhinney. Both estates are managed by agents who do not know who – or what – you are. It should stay that way. Just count the money and have done with it. This house is yours, of course, to do with as you see fit.'

Scrimgeour did up his robe. 'I'll leave you now to read and digest the Will. If you have any questions…' He looked at Dumbledore. 'Well, I'm sure you have your trusted advisors. Good day.'

Harry sat in stunned silence. Twenty minutes ago his biggest worry was how many more sausages he could eat, and now…

Dumbledore had said nothing; he merely looked.

'I need to talk to Hermione' said Harry.

Dumbledore inclined his head. 'A very good idea, if I may say so.'


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: In the previous chapter I had the Minister describe Harry as a Marquis. He is, of course, a Marquess. I will claim in my defence that Scrimgeour is a Scottish surname and they do occasionally use the French spelling!_

* * *

Harry walked slowly back to the kitchen, his mind in turmoil. It was too much to take in at once. The Will had made it all final; there was no pretence anymore. Sirius was dead, and would never come back. He'd loved Harry, enough to make him his heir and leave him everything, and leave him. Sirius was dead.

He opened the kitchen door. His kitchen door, he realised with a jolt. His kitchen door leading to his kitchen and his kitchen table. With his friends sat around it. Suddenly the house seemed to close around him, and he knew he needed to get out. He needed sunshine.

'Well?' said Ron.

'Let's go out' replied Harry. 'All of us.'

'We'll go to Hampstead Heath' said Hermione, sizing up the situation. 'We'll take a picnic.'

-o0o-

Melatiah held his hand throughout the journey, as usual, and Harry found it comforting. It was another new experience for her, travelling by bus, and he found that the constant explanations took his mind off his problems.

Travelling on a bus. If the Minister was to be believed Harry was now a multi-millionaire, and a Marquess. He wondered what that meant. Was he a Lord, or a Sir, or what? It didn't really matter; not when he was on a bus with his friends.

Hampstead Heath was wonderfully open after the confines of the gloomy old house he could now call home. The wind blew fresh and they could see the city laid out before them like a map. The noise and bustle of the streets was muted and it was easy to imagine they were in a completely different place, somewhere wild and free.

Hermione spread a rug over the grass and they sat down, savouring the sun on their faces in silence for a moment.

'Well, come on then. What did Scrimgeour want?' Harry had to laugh at Ron's directness, despite himself.

'He came to tell me about Sirus' Will' said Harry, simply, and then fell silent.

Ron tried – and failed. 'Well, go on. Did he leave you anything, a legacy?'

'Ron!' Hermione pretended outrage, though she was itching with curiosity herself. 'That's Harry's business. Unless he chooses to tell us, of course.'

'I'll tell you! Of course I'll tell you. It wasn't just a legacy. He left me the lot; money, house, everything.' He decided not to say anything about the titles.

Ron was making choking noises, and then he started spluttering. 'The…wha…you mean…everything? Merlin! The whole bloody Black inheritance?'

'Yeah, everything. I don't know how much its worth.'

'Millions, mate. Bloody millions, that's how much. They probably didn't even know themselves.' Ron seemed to go into shock. 'Bloody millions' he kept repeating.

'Yeah, for all the good it'll do me.'

'You are joking!' burst out Ron. 'I mean…you lucky bugger!'

'Lucky?' said Harry. 'Oh right. Yeah, that's the story of my life, isn't it? I always come up smelling of roses. Mum, Dad, Sirius…and then the small matter of a prophecy that says I've got to face the most dangerous wizard the world's ever seen. How much luckier can I get?'

Ron had the good grace to look embarrassed. 'I didn't mean it like that, mate; you know I didn't.'

'I'm sorry. It's just that…everyone who's ever cared for me ends up getting hurt. They all leave me, on my own.'

Melatiah leant forward and stroked his face. Then she took Ron and Hermione's hands and put them on Harry's shoulders.

He smiled apologetically at her. 'You're right; I'm not on my own, am I?' He took her hand in his and the four of them sat close together. 'I'm not alone.'

A tear slipped down Melatiah's cheek and Harry wiped it away with his thumb. 'None of us are alone' he said to her.

'Let's go and look at that flower bed, Ron' said Hermione, standing up.

'What do I want to look at flowers for?'

'Comeandlookatthebloodyflowers' she hissed, dragging him to his feet and pulling him away.

Harry didn't even notice them go. He raised his thumb towards his face, watching Melatiah's tear as the sun turned it into a jewel.

'We have to go back to school, soon' he said, still looking at the droplet. 'That means we have to go away, until Christmas. I don't think you'll be able to come with us.' He felt her tense. 'I'm going to see if you can stay with Molly. I think that would be best for you, and maybe she can bring you up to see us. Sometimes we can go to the local village for the day. And I normally stay with the Weasleys for Christmas, anyway, so I'll be able to see you then.'

He looked at her, and could see the yearning in her eyes.

'I don't think you'll be able to come with us. I'm sorry. You see, we can all do magic and if you can't there'll be nothing for you at Hogwarts. You'll be best at Molly's. Anyway, we've got a few weeks until then; we don't go until the First of September.'

He looked at her, and could see the frustration in her face as she pressed her lips together and shook her head.

'Why won't you speak, Melatiah? I'm sure you can. Why won't you?'

She shook her head, and was close to tears again. Then she pulled away from him and stood up, turning her back to him. He stood behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

'When you're ready. When you're ready to talk, I'm here.' He turned her gently to face him. 'I'll be here. Yes?' She nodded.

'Anyway, this is supposed to be a day out, and a picnic.' He laughed, suddenly. 'We're not really showing you how to have a good time, are we? Where have Ron and Hermione got to?' Melatiah pointed. 'I didn't know they were interested in flowers. They look like an old married couple examining their herbaceous border! Shall we go and get them?' Melatiah smiled and nodded and they walked over hand in hand.

Everyone made a conscious effort to keep the rest of the day as light as possible. They talked only of the here and now, and of Quidditch. The future was something to be avoided until it arrived. Ron told all the silly jokes he could think of and they laughed, even Hermione who didn't understand most of them. Then they lay on their backs and tried to make shapes out of the clouds.

'What am I going to do with the house?' Harry asked, in the middle of deciding if a particular cloud looked more like Iceland or a dragon.

'Live in it' replied Ron, ever practical.

'It's a bit big, just for me.'

'But one day it won't just be you, will it? There's plenty of room, and it's right in the centre of Town if you do become an auror.'

'But would I want to live there, anyway? It's old and gloomy and full of other people's memories.'

'You don't have to leave it that way. Redecorate it; get rid of all the old junk and pictures. Make it the House of Potter, not Black.'

'I think I'd have to. But, until then? I'd rather come and stay with you for the holidays. If your parents let me.'

Hermione sat up and looked thoughtful. 'How about letting the Order use it? Until you need it?'

'Yeah' Harry mused. 'That's an idea. Remus could stay there if he wanted to, and keep it aired. Would it be safe, though?'

'Of course' said Hermione. 'Professor Dumbledore could put a Fidelius Charm on it, and have secret keepers. You'd have to make sure Kreacher behaved himself, though.'

Harry sat up quickly. 'I'd forgotten about him! I thought maybe he'd gone away or something.'

'Nah' said Ron. 'He just sulks away up in the attic somewhere. We could always cut his head off and stick it on the wall. That'd solve the problem.'

'RON!'

'I'm joking, Hermione. Sort of. You'll have to make sure he does what you want him to though, if he's staying. You can't have him telling tales.'

Hermione looked surprised. 'That's a good point, coming from you. You need to make him take an oath of obedience.'

'Are you sure that doesn't infringe his Elf Rights, or something' Ron smirked.

'Needs must' said Hermione, trying to look dignified. 'You just have to make sure he doesn't give away any secrets, Harry, that's all. We figure out the words on the way home; we should be getting back.'

-o0o-

'KREACHER!'

There was a crack as the Elf apparated into the room.

'The Half-Blood called Kreacher as if it were my Master' he muttered to himself.

'I am, so you can pack that in for a start.'

Kreacher was so surprised by what Harry had said he forgot to ignore him. 'I serve the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, not half-blood friends of Traitors and Mudbloods.'

'Well, it really, really saddens me to tell you that isn't the case any more.' Harry waved the Will. 'Sirius Black…'

'Traitor'

'…the last male of the line, made me his heir.' Kreacher visibly paled, and had to hold onto the table to support himself. 'He left me everything; the house, the money…you.'

'No, I will not…'

'You will serve me. That was the wish of your Master.'

'No.'

'You will serve me, or die.' Hermione let out a shriek, but Harry silenced her with a look. 'If you choose to die, your head will not be placed in a position of honour on the wall. I'll burn it.'

'No! Kreacher is a faithful House Elf! Kreacher has earned his place upon the wall with his forebears.'

'Then you will serve me. And you will serve my friends as if they were me.'

Kreacher took a long moment to consider, and then nodded. 'I will serve my new Master. You promise Kreacher a place on the wall?'

'As long as you serve me faithfully. But, you must do nothing, by any thought, deed, act or omission to harm me or my friends, either directly or indirectly. You will communicate nothing, in any way, that could aid my enemies, nor will you offer them any assistance.'

They could almost hear his mind working as he searched for the escape clause. 'You promise Kreacher a place on the wall?'

'A place of honour, if it is earned.'

Kreacher bowed. 'Master.'

'Good. Your first task. Do you know how to remove the picture in the hallway?'

Kreacher put his hand over his mouth, but the words still came out. 'Yes, Master.'

'Good. Get rid of it, now. You can have it. Then go and help Mrs Weasley in the kitchen.'

Kreacher bowed again and tried to apparate, but was in too much shock. He had to walk to the door. They heard him muttering to himself. 'Kreacher will have his place on the wall, but the shame…the shame…'

'Wahoo! Result, mate!' Ron gave Harry a deserved pat on the back.

Harry smiled. 'I almost enjoyed it! Well played, Hermione!'

Hermione tried to join in the celebrations, but couldn't. 'I feel awful. We're abusing him just as much as the others did. He'll trade anything – everything he believes in – for his place on a wall once he's dead. Harry, once this is all over we have to do something, for him and all the others.'

'Once it's over.' He smiled at her. 'I'll even rejoin SPEW. Now, on the basis he's not allowed to poison us, let's go and get some dinner.'


	6. Chapter 6

With a deep sigh Harry sat up, fumbling for his glasses and wand so that he could find out what time it was.

3 AM. The dead hours of the night were upon him and he couldn't sleep. The dull throb of his scar made that impossible. It wasn't hurting, not really, just this constant low level rumbling, as if Voldemort himself were reminding Harry that he hadn't gone away. He was still there, waiting, and every day was a day closer to their final confrontation.

Harry sunk back onto his pillow, trying to remember everything he had been taught about Occlumency by Snape last year. He tried to empty his mind of everything, to leave a perfect blank, but it was much harder than he imagined.

He had to think about something, whether he wanted to or not, and at the moment that was either Melatiah or Hermione. That was no good at all. He threw back the bed covers and made his way to the bathroom for a drink of water. At least it distracted him.

Back in bed he sat there, wondering what to do about Melatiah. He was, perhaps, getting feelings for her, feelings he'd never had before. Cho hadn't lasted long enough for Harry to feel anything other than surprise that she wanted to go out with him. He felt bad about that, once Hermione had explained to him what was going on. He'd never really had the chance to talk to her since, and apologize.

Melatiah was different. He wanted to be with her, as a guide and protector. She knew so little of the world, and maybe he could teach her, and she would smile at him again. He liked that. It made him want to hold her.

Was he falling in love? He wondered about that, and felt confused. If he loved her, then why was he even thinking about Hermione? The thoughts there were very different. He didn't necessarily want to hold her, or look after her. He wanted to see her wearing as little as poss…

He rubbed his scar as the pain built. This was no longer just a background. The pain was building inside him and he knew Voldemort was aroused. He was thinking about something, somebody, and he was angry. Harry sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his hands to his forehead, trying to push away the pain.

Then Melatiah screamed.

Harry jumped out of bed and raced to her room, throwing the door open. Melatiah was still lying down, but thrashing around and moaning. Harry pulled her up into a hug.

'Melatiah! Melatiah! Wake up! It's alright; it's only a bad dream. Wake up!'

Her eyes flew open and he could see how scared she was. Then she clung onto him, putting her head into his chest. Harry started stroking her hair, trying to sooth her.

'OK, OK, I'm here. You only had a bad dream, there's nothing to worry about.' He could still feel her trembling.

'Harry? What's going on?'

Harry looked up to see Hermione in the doorway, wearing an undecipherable expression.

'I think Melatiah had a nightmare, so I came in to see if she was alright.'

'You got here very quickly.'

'I was already awake. In my room. I couldn't sleep.'

Hermione's face softened as she looked at the girl, still clinging to Harry and shaking.

'Did you have a bad dream?' Melatiah nodded, still sobbing quietly. 'It's gone now; you're awake, and a bad dream can't hurt you, can it?' Melatiah shook her head, but still looked scared.

Then Ron arrived, his wand casting _Lumos_. Despite everything, Harry noticed that it showed the silhouette of Hermione's legs through her nightdress. He didn't really need that at the moment, even if they were rather shapely. He forced his attention back to Melatiah whilst Hermione explained to Ron what had happened.

Ron, realising he would be of no use at all in this situation, headed back to bed, throwing over his shoulder 'Mum used to make us a hot drink when we had nightmares.'

Hermione came to sit on the bed, taking one of Melatiah's hands in hers. 'Would you like me to make you a drink?' Melatiah shook her head. 'And you're alright, now?' Melatiah nodded. 'Well, I'll get back to bed myself then. Goodnight.'

Harry sat, holding her hand and rubbing the back of it with his thumb. 'You're sure you're OK?' She nodded. 'Then I suppose I should let you get back to sleep.' Melatiah clung to him. 'I can't really…do you want me to stay with you?' She looked at him with such heartfelt pleading in her face that he couldn't refuse her. 'I just hope Molly doesn't find out! Look, I'll sit in the chair, yes?'

Melatiah looked away, trying not to cry. 'I…I'll tell you what, I'll pull the chair up to the bed so that I can hold your hand, yes?' Melatiah wiped her eyes and tried to give him a brave smile. 'I really think that would be best.'

She soon fell back to sleep, holding Harry's hand, whilst he tried to get some rest himself. His scar had stopped hurting, and he was feeling rather sleepy, but the chair wasn't the most comfortable in the world. His mind was rather active, too.

He knew now that he was fond of her, and she meant much more to him than just a friend. He was, probably, falling in love with her, possibly. He thought that love probably meant caring a lot for somebody. Should he ask her to be his girlfriend? That didn't seem right, somehow. Girlfriend sort of suggested holding hands – which he was doing – and maybe trying to find a cupboard somewhere the teachers couldn't see you. He wasn't sure if that was what he wanted for him and Melatiah. It felt a bit …grubby. He wanted to sit with her, and help her. He cared for her.

So why, in the middle of her nightmare, had he found himself staring at Hermione's legs? He liked her; she was his best friend after all, after Ron. And she was a girl, quite an attractive one…with legs. She probably didn't have anything on at all under her nightdress. He didn't care for her in the same way, though. It was all very confusing…maybe he was becoming obsessed.

Towards dawn he managed to dose a little.

-o0o-

Harry awoke when he heard the others moving around. Melatiah was in a deep sleep, so he decided not to wake her; a lie-in would do her good. He went back to his room to dress before going down to breakfast.

'How is she' Hermione asked, the concern on her face very genuine.

'Still sleeping. I thought it best not to disturb her.'

Hermione nodded. 'Good idea.' Then her expression changed. 'So how comes you were awake last night?'

Harry looked away and shrugged. 'Just couldn't sleep.'

'Was it your scar? Was it hurting?'

'My scar's always reminding me it's there.'

'Harry, you have to tell Professor Dumbledore.'

He laughed. 'Look, if I went running to him every time I got a twinge I'd be living in his pocket. It's just one of those things that happens, and its fine now.'

Hermione returned to her breakfast, but her entire body language made it clear she wasn't happy about it. Only the arrival of Dumbledore himself stopped her muttering under her breath. He sat down, giving them all a benevolent smile, and helped himself to toast and jam.

'I declare! Some of Molly's excellent raspberry! It has always been one of my favourites.' He crunched happily for a while. 'So, how is our new guest doing?'

'She seems to be settling in, Sir' said Harry. 'We're trying to include her as much as possible.'

'I would expect nothing less of such fine group of people. Has she spoken yet?'

'No. She can talk, Professor, I'm sure of it, but there's some reason why she won't. It's almost as if she's…I'm sure she wants to.'

'That is why I thought you would be able to help her, Harry. It will come, in time, as long as she trusts you. Stay close to her. I take it she is still in bed?'

'Yes' butted in Hermione. 'She had a disturbed night, a bad dream, I think.'

'Her adopted mother did say she had them. Were you able to help her, Miss Granger?'

'No, I mean there was no need.' She shot a dirty look across the table. 'Harry got there first; he was already awake.'

'Indeed, Harry? Bad dream yourself?'

'No, Professor; I just couldn't sleep, that's all.' He returned Hermione's glare. 'I was thinking about the house, now that I own it. Hermione came up with the idea that the Order could use it as a base.'

Dumbledore considered for a while. 'A most generous offer, if I may say so. Thank you, Harry.'

'And that was all that was keeping you up was it, Harry?' Hermione had pursed her lips.

'Well, there was something else. I was thinking about redecorating, too.' Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and left the table in a marked manner.

'Miss Granger cares for you, Harry' said Dumbledore, when she had gone. 'You would do well to listen to her.'

'I thought cream in the hallway' replied Harry, reaching for the tea pot. 'Brighten it up a bit.'

-o0o-

They stayed in the house that day, Melatiah keeping close to Harry. He couldn't quite tell from her expression if she was still scared by her nightmare, or embarrassed about it.

Harry, mainly to stop Hermione going on at him, continued his game of redecoration, even going so far as to make a list of ideas on a piece of parchment. It was rather fun, actually. They went from room to room, deciding what was staying and what was going, and then discussing colour schemes. Ron tended towards an orange theme, and they had to try to dissuade him.

The biggest laugh of the day came when Hermione blurted out 'I think I'll take charge of decorating, Ron. You can have the garden.' The two boys stared at her, and she went as red as Ron's hair. Her rather pathetic attempts at trying to explain that she was talking about this house, of course she was, what other house could she possibly mean, it's not as if , and anyway there was more than enough to be going on with at the moment and did anybody want a cup of tea? had both Harry and Ron giggling like the schoolboys they still were.

They hadn't stopped at dinner time either. Hermione called Molly "Mrs Weasley" as usual.

'I think you can start calling her "Molly" if you want to' said Ron.

'Or "Mother-in-law"' sniggered Harry, just loud enough for Hermione to hear him.

Hermione tucked into her mashed potato with more force than was really necessary, and said nothing. She spent the rest of the evening with her nose in a book, and refused to talk to them.

Ron and harry amused themselves playing exploding snap, which Melatiah watched with interest once she had got over the shock of seeing them go up in an explosion every now and again. Harry had remembered to explain to her what was likely to happen before they'd started. Even so, she still looked concerned when he reappeared from behind a cloud of smoke, and that felt nice.

It wasn't long before his disturbed night started to catch up with him, though, and before long he found it harder and harder to concentrate on whatever Ron was talking about. Eventually, he gave up.

'It's no good. I'm going up to bed.' He yawned, and so did Melatiah. 'Are you tired, too?' She nodded.

Harry stood and stretched, and scratched his head. 'I'm going up.' He headed for the door and Melatiah followed.

Upstairs, on the landing outside her room, he turned to her. 'Well, I'll say "Goodnight", then. I'll see you in the morning.'

She looked at him with large, sad eyes and took his hand.

'I don't really think I should stay with you tonight.' He tried to make a joke of his feelings. 'You're a big girl now, and what would Mrs. Weasley say?' Melatiah half turned from him, worrying at her lip with her teeth.

'Look, if you want, I'll come in a see you settled, but I really shouldn't stay. Will that help?' She nodded, and opened her door.

'You'll be fine, honestly. I should go.'

Melatiah put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. 'Melatiah, look at me.'

That was the wrong thing to say. She did look at him – up at him with those big eyes and he was lost. He was her prisoner, and knew there was only one thing he could do now.

He held her in his arms and, bending his head forward, kissed her.


	7. Chapter 7

This was different, so different to anything he had known before. It was not the hesitant kissing of a girl trying to block out the memories of her dead boyfriend. This was a kiss with a girl he cared for deeply. He felt her tense as his lips met hers; he drew back slightly and looked at her.

'Do you mind me kissing you?' She shook her head, but looked confused. 'People do it when they care about each other. Melatiah, I think I'm starting to care about you a lot. I think I might be falling in love with you.'

She smiled, hesitantly, and he moved back towards her. This time she relaxed into him and their lips met again. She felt so warm, so soft, and so right. His tongue ran along her lips, gently parting them. He saw her eyes open, wondering what this was, and then she parted her teeth and let nature take over. People do not need to learn how to kiss.

He pulled her closer to him, aware of sensations running through his body he had only imagined, but never felt before. It was better than he had ever thought. His hands began to circle on her back, feeling the material of her shirt slide over her skin. His senses were heighted by his emotions and he could feel the tiny blemishes on her back. His hand moved lower, to the top of her jeans, and he started to gently tug, pulling the shirt out.

There was just enough of a gap for him to slip in his hand, and now he had flesh touching flesh. His heart rate began to soar, and his breathing increased, as did hers. Slowly, infinitely slowly, he untucked more of her shirt. Now his hand could feel the ripples of the muscles on her stomach, and the indentation of her belly button. That was the most erotic experienced he'd ever had, but it wasn't enough.

He opened his eyes to check, but she seemed at ease. This was all new to her as well, and she was enjoying the sensations that coursed through her body. She didn't know what they were, but she liked them.

Harry's hand moved up, feeling ribs just under the skin. And then, material. It was the bra he had helped her buy, and he could picture it in his mind. Not only picture it, but feel it. The slightly rough texture of the material, the weft and warp of the material running in different directions. His fingertips could feel that, and underneath the swell of her breast. It was soft, but firm, and fitted perfectly into his had as if the two were made for each other. He squeezed gently, again and again. That felt wonderful! He was starting to pant, slightly, and press against her. His whole body felt more alive than it had ever done.

And now a new sensation. A hard lump. He knew it was her nipple, but was amazed at how much bigger it was than his own. He knew what nipples were for, on a woman, but at the back of his mind wondered why he had them too. It didn't matter.

He took it between his finger and thumb, and began to slowly squeeze it. Melatiah mewed into his mouth. She liked that.

A sudden knock at the door. Hermione's voice.

'Melatiah, I've come to see if you need anything. Can I come in?'

Harry sprang back like the proverbial scalded cat and pressed against the wall. The door opened.

'Hello! I just wanted to check you're alright. Do you need anything?'

Melatiah gave a rather strained smile, and shook her head.

'You're sure you're ok? You look a little flushed.' Melatiah shook her head and smiled again. Hermione regarded her for a moment. 'Well, I'll say Goodnight, then. I'll see you in the morning.'

The door started to swing shut, and Harry relaxed.

Too soon. The door stopped shutting.

'Oh, just one more thing…' Hermione's head appeared in front of him, her face looking as if she'd been sucking on a particularly sour lemon. 'Say goodnight to Melatiah, Harry. It's bedtime.'

'I…was…'

'Just checking the hinges were secure? How thoughtful of you. Say goodnight.' Hermione was holding the door, and it was patently obvious she wasn't going without him.

'Goodnight, Melatiah' he mumbled. He tried to convey with his eyes everything he couldn't say, not in front of Hermione. Melatiah looked at him with longing. Harry left her room, Hermione following him and shutting the door firmly behind her. Then she grabbed his arm and swung him round.

'What on God's Earth do you think you're playing at?'

'It's not…I…Hermione…'

'I know Professor Dumbledore told you to get close to her, but he didn't mean it that literally.'

'We weren't doing anything.'

'So why were you hiding behind the door?' Her whole face said she didn't believe him.

'I panicked.'

'And her T-shirt untucked itself, did it?'

'How did you…?'

'Never mind how I knew. I did, and a good job too.'

'What do you mean?'

'How far were you intending going?'

'I…we…'

'Where's your wand?'

'In my room' said Harry, a bit surprised by what she'd asked. What did a wand have to do with anything? They weren't about to be attacked

'And she hasn't got one.' Hermione was starting to remind him of McGonagall. 'Is she on the pill?'

'Pardon? What pill?'

'Exactly. Harry, have you ever heard of contraception?'

'We weren't…'

'Weren't you? So at what point did you intend stopping?' Harry couldn't come up with an answer to that. 'I thought as much. Raising a baby is hardly ideal preparation for NEWTS, is it?'

'She wouldn't have…'

'No? You're sure about that, are you?' Hermione sighed and put her hands over her eyes. 'It isn't just that. What you did was **wrong**, Harry.'

'I never put you down as a prude, not after Viktor.'

'I'm **not** being prudish! I knew what I was doing when we…never mind. That isn't the point. Yes it is; I knew what I was doing. She doesn't.' Hermione seemed to relax a little, and the anger drained from her face. She put her hand on his arm. 'Harry, you have to remember Melatiah knows nothing of the world. She might be our age but in reality she's really quite young; just a child. She's vulnerable and you can't - I know you don't see it this way - but you can't take advantage of her.'

'I'm not! How dare you? You think I was just in there to get a quick touch up, do you? Well, thank you, my oldest friend. I'm so glad you have such a high opinion of me.' Harry was surprised at how quickly his anger had risen.

'I don't mean you are' said Hermione, quickly. She realised she'd overstated her case. 'I didn't mean that I think you're…but she's very innocent. Everything in her life has been turned upside down and she's probably confused right now.'

'I care about her.' The sincerity in his voice was unquestionable.

'I know you do' said Hermione, softly. 'I can see that. That's all the more reason why you should be looking after her interests. I'm not saying you shouldn't, or can't, be affectionate towards her, but not this quickly. She only knows us; maybe you should give her a chance to see more of the world.'

Harry looked down, surprisingly close to tears. 'I don't know I can. Not now.'

'If you love her, give her the opportunity to choose you.'

'I just want to be happy.'

'And you want her to be happy as well, don't you?'

'Of course I do.'

'Then let her learn about the world.' Hermione hugged him. He could be very young himself, at times, and she sometimes felt more like his mother than his friend. 'I care about both of you, you know that. I don't want to spoil your life, but I want you both to be happy.'

'I know.'

Harry went to bed with a lot on his mind that night. Hermione was right, of course. Hermione was always right. So why did it feel so wrong? He knew he would be awake for a long while yet.

In her room, Melatiah was in a similar state. She'd listened to their conversation through the door, but most of it had made no sense to her at all.

All she knew was the house she had been brought up in and the woman who had raised her. Just that and…something else, something just always out of reach.

Then just recently another person had come into her life and she'd left her home and…mother. Since then everything had been new. The world was much bigger than she had thought, and there were lots of other people. Some of them, like Harry and Ron and Dumbledore, were different to her but she didn't know why. She recognised that Hermione was similar, like her mother and Molly. There were two sorts of people in the world. She hadn't known.

Without knowing why, she instinctively recognised that Harry was special to her. He was kind and showed her things and took her to places. When she was scared it seemed natural to hold his hand, and she liked that. It made her feel safe. Last night, she'd had a scary dream. This one was different; she'd never had it before. It was similar to the others, though. There was she voice, always the same one, and somebody in pain. Then Harry had been there and the dream had stopped because he'd held her hand.

Now he'd done something else. "Kissing", he called it. She'd been kissed before, but not like that. Her mother would kiss her if she hurt herself, or before she went to bed, but Harry's kiss had made her feel – like she was hot and cold and it was Christmas morning all at the same time.

And he'd touched her. He'd touched her bust, and it had felt…like nothing she had ever experienced in her life. She could feel his hand all the way through her body. It felt so nice, but Hermione didn't seem happy about it.

Melatiah didn't understand that. Why should Hermione be upset about something that felt so good? And she'd talked about babies. The old witch who'd raised her had never got round to giving Melatiah the facts of life, there had seemed little need. Melatiah had seen pictures of babies in papers; they were just like small people. Now Hermione had said they came from holding each other. That seemed very odd.

And them Hermione had called her a child. That wasn't fair; Melatiah knew she was a big girl now. She'd been allowed to cook and use hot things and knives for a long time. Melatiah thought she could probably use knives better than Hermione could. She could chop onions and peel potatoes and everything – without cutting herself.

Now Harry wasn't allowed to touch her anymore, according to Hermione, because there were other people who might want to do it. That didn't seem fair on him. He liked touching her, and she liked him touching her, so what was the problem? Hermione had said she needed to make a choice.

Melatiah scratched absently at her cheek. What choice? Should she try kissing Ron? What for? He wasn't as nice as Harry - even if he was better at chess. Ron hadn't taken her to buy clothes, or held her hand so she could sleep and forget the bad dream.

Melatiah got into bed and pulled the blankets around her. Hermione may have lovely clothes, but she was wrong. Melatiah had already chosen Harry.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry got up in the night. He wanted to test out a theory. Less than five seconds after opening his door Hermione was peering out of her room. 'I'm going to the toilet, if that's alright with the aurors.'

Hermione shut her door without saying anything.

It was the same when they got up in the morning. 'I'll call Melatiah' she said, brooking no argument. 'You have a shower and go down to breakfast.' She arranged the seating so that she was on one side of Harry but, despite her best endeavours, Ron missed the unspoken message and sat opposite them.

Melatiah came in and sat on the other side of Harry, giving Hermione a look. Then, very deliberately, she kissed Harry – lips to lips. She gave Hermione another look and then reached for the bacon. Hermione was not amused. Harry avoided her gaze and Ron kept his mouth shut.

It continued after breakfast. They all went into one of the sittings rooms. Harry headed for the sofa, with Melatiah holding his hand. A cough from Hermione made him let go and change direction to an armchair. Melatiah sat on the arm.

Hermione's lips were pursed and Ron was secretly hoping the wind didn't change direction; she might end up like that forever. At least, that's what his mum always said. After a few moments Hermione left the room. The cruel would say she _flounced_. A suspiciously short while later she was back, smiling sweetly.

'Melatiah, Mrs Weasley has asked if we can help her fold some washing. You are coming. Aren't you?'

Melatiah stood and looked at Harry.

'Oh, we don't need him. Boys are genetically incapable of folding things up. Boys are incapable of lots of things. You'll learn that. Shall we go?'

'OK' said Ron, once the door was shut, 'what have you done wrong?'

'Nothing' replied Harry, defensively.

'Fine, I'll change the question. What have you done wrong – according to Hermione?'

'She sort of found me…saying "goodnight" to Melatiah.' Ron had a grin on his face. 'It wasn't like you think. Well, it was.' Harry had a bit of a smirk on his face, too.

'How far did you get?'

'Not as far as I could have done if we hadn't been disturbed.' Harry sounded thoughtful.

'Could or should? Result!'

'No, it's not like that. Honestly.' Harry paused. Ron was his best friend, but he didn't want to sound too wet. 'I think I'm getting a bit fond of her.'

'You mean keen?'

'No, I mean fond. Ron…I think I might be in love.'

Ron puffed out his cheeks. 'It happens, apparently. So why's that upset Hermione?'

'She thinks that Melatiah's "vulnerable" because she's been locked away all her life so she doesn't know anything about the world. She says it would be easy to take advantage of her. I'm not, honestly.' He pulled a few threads from the arm of the chair. 'I think I am in love with her.'

Ron shrugged. 'So go for it.'

'You don't think I should back off? She isn't off limits?'

'Nah. She's our age so I reckon she's fair game.' He looked a little worried. 'Just don't tell Hermione I said that, will you? Chess?'

Harry felt much happier. He'd been mature and sensible; he'd sought advice.

-o0o-

In the laundry room the conversation was more one sided, and slightly different in tone. Hermione was "chattering", apparently randomly, as they folded clothes.

'Honestly, I don't know how this washing builds up so quickly. Clothes do seem to multiply once they go in the laundry basket, don't they? That's Ron's – his pile is over there. Maybe it's because there are four of us here. Harry's . It's strange you know, but it seems like you've been here forever, rather than just a few days.

I must say, you've certainly settled in very well. The three of us have been friends for years now, we're always together, but you've fitted in really easily. Ron's, both of them. Most orange things will be his. You're certainly getting on well with Harry.' Melatiah stopped folding for a while. Naïve was not the same as stupid.

'I've known him since he was eleven. I'm nearly a year older than him, you know. If I'd been born two weeks earlier we would have been in different years at school. I suppose, because of that, I've always thought of him as a little brother. I haven't got any brothers or sisters.'

Melatiah folded a few tops; her whole stance was tense, awkward.

'I can see why the two of you are attracted to each other' Hermione continued, in a gentler tone. 'You're similar. Both of you lost…you don't have anyone else, not really. Melatiah…Harry's searching for happiness. Merlin knows he deserves it if anyone does, but it keeps being snatched away from him. His godfather used to own this house. He died a few months back. That was Harry's last chance of having a family.

He's got a job to do, as well, eventually. It will probably be dangerous for all of us.' Hermione looked at the socks she was putting together. She had to swallow back a tear. 'We'll stick with him, Ron and I, but we know – deep down – there is a chance we won't all make it. Harry…I'm not sure if we're good enough; we might not come back. Maybe it wouldn't help him if had had somebody else to worry about.

And you. You've only met two boys, and Ron isn't exactly a perfect example. He's sort of a bit awkward and can't say what he means at times, but he is good and brave and loyal. I don't know if he's the best catch a girl could make.' She laughed a little bit. 'I think he's probably the only one I'll have, though. I'm not sure many others could put up with me. He understands me.'

She wiped her nose on her hand and reached for the next item of clothing. It was one of Ron's shirts and she held it to herself for a moment.

'I've met other boys, though. At least I've had a chance to compare him and…on balance I suppose he isn't as bad as he could be. Maybe you should do the same thing. Harry's my best friend but he can be a bit selfish at times, and absorbed in his own problems. He finds it hard to open up to people. I'm not saying he's bad, or anything, but just so you know. There are other people in the world; lots of them.' She gave Melatiah a ghost of a smile. 'I am trying to help; I want you to know that. I'm not just trying to be horrible for the sake of it.'

Melatiah nodded. Hermione tried again.

'Look, why don't we finish this up and go out for a while? Just the two of us? We could have a girly day out, looking…'

Hermione suddenly realised she didn't know what a girly day out consisted off. She didn't have any girl friends – maybe Ginny, perhaps. What would Lavender or Parvati do? They mainly talked about clothes and make-up…and boys.

'…at some more clothes for you. Maybe something a bit posher; dresses and things and some make-up. There are shops that sell it. We could even see a film, afterwards. I've heard that "Sense and Sensibility" is supposed to be good. Well, it's got Hugh Grant in it anyway.' Hermione blushed slightly. 'He's quite dishy.'

Melatiah looked towards the sitting room, the expression on her face obvious.

'Only if Harry comes as well?'

Melatiah nodded, forcefully. Hermione sighed.

'At least nobody can say I didn't try. If that's what you think you want…I'll have to have a quick chat with him, though. There's probably a charm he might need to learn.'

Melatiah smiled a real smile at Hermione and quickly reached out to touch her arm.

Hermione smiled back, a little sadly. 'I'll be here, if you need me.'

-o0o-

They spent the rest of the day quietly in the house, playing chess and snap. When the girls first went back to the living Melatiah immediately went to sit on the arm of Harry's chair again. Hermione looked at Harry and shrugged. Harry gave her a "Thank you, I know" sort of smile in return.

Hermione went back to her usual seat next to Ron at the dinner table and tried to join in conversations as if nothing were amiss. She did collar Harry when Melatiah went for a bath though, and it was an embarrassing conversation for both of them. Harry had thought he knew what Hermione wanted to talk to him about.

'I know what you said last night, but I like her and she likes me and…'

'That isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. Yes, I tried to explain to her but she won't listen so…well, if you can't be good, be careful.'

'I wasn't planning…'

'That was perfectly obvious last night, Harry. Perhaps you should start planning. Do you know the charm?'

'Hermione!'

'Do you?'

'Not exactly, but honestly…can't I talk to somebody else?'

'Like who?'

'I don't know. But…you? Look, it's a bit…you're a girl.'

'So's she. You'd prefer to ask Ron?'

Harry thought about that for a while. 'He'd smirk.'

'Exactly. I'm not exactly looking forward to this myself. At least I thought I'd be talking to my own children. But if you're old enough to need this charm you're old enough to do it properly – without being schoolboyish about it. Now, go and get your wand and pay attention…'

Harry was very glad when it was all over.

-o0o-

He felt so awkward going up to bed that night. He just _knew_ Hermione was looking at him. They stopped outside Melatiah's door.

'I won't come in tonight. I don't think I should.' He took her hands, seeing the – disappointment? – on her face. 'Melatiah, I care about you, a lot. It isn't easy for me to say this, but I think I love you. That's why I won't come in. I don't want you to think that you're just…I like you as a person, too. So it's probably best if we…' He leant forward and kissed her cheek. 'Goodnight.'

-o0o-

He awoke as the door opened. He knew, without needing a clock, that it was late and everyone else was asleep. Footsteps crossed the room. He felt the covers lift and a body climb in beside him. Lips brushed his cheek. He turned towards her, taking her in his arms, and heard her sigh.

He felt his hand being taken by hers, and placed on her breast. They both went back to sleep immediately.

-o0o-

The room was dark. Guttering torching cast only ineffectual light. It was just enough to show the man covering on the floor.

'You have failed me.' The voice was cold, without any emotion.

'My Lord, I tried. I tried everything, I did my best.'

'Then your best is not good enough. I have no need or room for failures.'

'Please, I beg you…'

'Dolohov, dispose of him. I will be in my chambers.'

An arm raised, a wand was pointed. '_Ada..'_

_-o0o-_

Two people sat up suddenly. With one voice, they screamed.

'NO!'


	9. Chapter 9

Harry held on to Melatiah, he could feel her shaking and crying.

'Shh. Shh. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you. It's just that I had a dream, like you did the other night…a frightening one, but its all over now. Shh.'

They both jumped as the door flew open and light filled the room.

'Harry? What happened? I heard…oh.' Hermione didn't quite know what to say. She'd never imagined it would be this quick and it took her a while to get back on track. 'I heard two screams.'

'Yes, I had one of my dreams. I must have frightened Melatiah when I woke up.'

Hermione was about to contradict him when Ron arrived. The worried look on his face was soon replaced by an ear-to-ear grin and he lowered his wand.

'The last one cried all over you and this one screamed. Your technique must be lousy, mate!'

Hermione turned to him, preparing to give him a piece of her mind. She didn't need to. A look of terror crossed her face when she saw Molly Weasley walking towards them. She looked back at Harry, trying to speak whole volumes with just a grimace. It didn't work.

'Harry, dear, are you alright? I thought I heard…What in Merlin's…WHAT IS SHE DOING IN HERE, MAY I ASK?'

Hermione tried, she honestly did try. 'Mrs. Weasley, that's not the most important…'

'NOT THE MOST…? Well, in all my born days I never thought I'd hear you say such a thing, young lady. I thought you were a decent, well bought up girl. Did you know? Well, did you?'

'I… Harry…'

'Then you can be ashamed of yourself. You should have told me.'

She turned her glare on Harry and he shrank back. He'd observed Molly Weasley's rants on more than one occasion, but had never been on the receiving end before.

'I'm disgusted with you, Harry. At your age you're old enough to know better. Professor Dumbledore entrusted you with this young girl's wellbeing and this is how you repay him? It's disgraceful! I will not have debauchery under my roof, and you should know it.'

'It isn't actually your roof, Mum; Harry owns it and...Ow!' Ron received a clip round the ear.

'I DON'T NEED ANY CHEEK FROM YOU EITHER! Did you know what was going on? DID YOU?'

'No! I…'

'GET BACK TO YOUR ROOMS. ALL OF YOU! You too, Melatiah, dear. I obviously don't blame you for any of this, but I'd like a little chat with you in the morning, if I may.' She gave Hermione a very hard stare. 'Quite clearly one of us has to take responsibility for your welfare.'

'Mrs Weasley, I really need to talk to Harry.'

'Somebody does, that's plain to see, but I think you'd be better off leaving it to an adult, don't you?. Now, go to your room before I have to get in touch with your parents.'

Hermione didn't argue; she knew when she was beaten. Once they had scurried of, Melatiah looking heart broken at having to leave, Molly faced Harry again. For somebody who kept insisting she was more hurt than angry she certainly didn't sound it. When she eventually wore herself out Harry was quite grateful to fall back on his pillow, half hoping he would dream about Voldemort again. After Molly, it would be like a holiday.

-o0o-

Breakfast was a rather quiet affair. At least Melatiah got her plate put in front of her, and received a pat on her shoulder and a smile. The rest had their plates smashed down and were told to eat. Hermione was in the greatest disgrace as Molly obviously thought that Harry was a boy and Ron…well, he was Ron. Once they'd finished eating they were told, in no uncertain terms, to leave the kitchen. The four of them stood up.

'I'd like you to help me in here today, Melatiah.' It was certainly not a question. 'The rest of you can make sure you don't get under my feet. Go!'

Harry gave Melatiah a very small wave as they left. He was already missing her. They headed for the sitting room and flopped down, sighing a lot. Nobody knew quite what to say.

'Harry?' Hermione sounded hesitant. 'I think we should tell Professor Dumbledore.'

'I'm sure Mum'll save us the trouble' was Ron's response. 'Not that he can do anything out of school. Can he?'

'I didn't mean that. I want to know why you both cried out.'

'I told you. I must have scared her.'

'She shouted out when you did.'

'At exactly the same time? There wasn't even a half second gap?'

'Well...I was asleep, of course.'

'Exactly. Anyway, why would she have the same dream as me at the same time?'

'You're sure it was a dream? Remember when You-know-who …'

'His name's Voldemort. That was ligilimency. How could he use it on her? Anyway, it was directed at me to lure me into a trap. This was just a dream, and I scared her.'

'So what did you dream?'

'I don't know. Somebody – I don't know who it was – had failed him. Voldemort had him killed, just like that. then i woke up.'

Hermione still looked troubled. There was something else, she was sure of it, but just couldn't remember. She was sure it was significant, thought. She knew they had called out…that was it!

'Harry! Now I remember! Melatiah didn't just scream like she did the other night. She actually spoke! I heard her call out "No!"' The Professor has to know about that. Maybe her speech is coming back again.'

'Her speech has always been there, I know that for certain. She can speak, but something's stopping her. I don't think it's that important he knows. But I can't do anything to get her talking if we're going to be forced apart.'

'I did say…'

'Yeah, yeah. You were right, as usual.'

They stayed slumped in the living room for the rest of the morning, Harry staring off into space and not even attempting to join in any conversations.

'So, what do we do next?'asked Ron, simply to break the silence. 'I don't think I can handle much more of this excitement.'

They didn't have long to wait. Shortly after 11 o'clock, Dumbledore arrived. After the usual pleasantries Molly bustled him into the kitchen. Nobody dared follow to find out what was happening. He was soon back, opening the door of their room and looking at them. Hermione was the only one who would meet his eye, and then she too dropped her head and stared at the carpet. There was a long minute of silence before Dumbledore coughed.

'You certainly seem to be taking your work very seriously, Harry. Normally I would commend such devotion to duty, but…' Harry couldn't reply; he daren't.

They were treating him like a naughty schoolboy, when all he'd done was fall in love with somebody who loved him back. Was love a crime, now?

'A word please, Miss Granger, if I may?'

Hermione stood, casting anxious glances at the other two, and slowly followed Dumbledore from the room. She was gone for twenty minutes and returned holding a small suitcase. She was obviously trying to be very brave.

'I'm…I've decided to spend a few days with my parents' she said, rather too brightly to be believable.

'Why?' Both Ron and Harry were on their feet, outraged.

'Well…they are my parents, I suppose, and I should …I'll see you.' She turned and ran out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

They heard him through the door. 'Ready, Miss Granger? I shall take you by apparition to ensure you arrive safely. Take hold of my arm, if you will.'

She was gone and Harry was devastated. He felt he had betrayed her. Hermione had told him to slow down, had told him to be careful – and now she was the one being blamed.

A short while later the door opened. Molly and Melatiah entered. 'Well' said Molly, 'that's that. Melatiah has finished helping me, so you can spend the rest of the day together.' She emphasised day. 'Diner will be at seven. You can play chess.'

For the first time in this life, Harry felt something less than devotion to Molly Weasley.

'Why? Why did you make her go?'

'Professor Dumbledore is the cleverest man alive, Harry. I'm sure he knows what's for the best. You'd do well to listen to him, and others, in the future. Like I said, dinner will be at seven.' She left them alone.

Melatiah went and sat on the arm of Harry's chair, and put her arm around his shoulder. He could see the apology in her expression. He hugged her back.

'It's not your fault. It's me. It's always me.' He smiled sadly at her. 'I'm glad you're back.' She smiled, too.

Ron announced he was going to his room to read, and left them to it. Once again, Potter came out of it smelling of roses whilst he was left on the outside.

Harry and Melatiah were playing chess and Harry was, yet again, about to lose. Melatiah smiled. Harry's tactics were never subtle; his attacks were always so telegraphed it was no surprise he lost. Eventually, Harry's King threw down his crown and they sat back in silence.

'Melatiah, last night Hermione said you called out when I woke you up. She said you didn't just scream, but you actually spoke.'

Melatiah's eyes darted around the room, and she shook her head.

'You can speak, can't you?' Melatiah shook her head more forcefully and she picked up her Queen offering him another game.

'No, not yet.' He knelt on the floor by her side. 'Why won't you speak to me? I'm not going to hurt you.'

-o0o-

Minerva McGonagall was just getting ready to have some lunch when the staff room door opened.

'Albus? What are you doing…why is Miss Granger with you? What's going on?'

Dumbledore chuckled, and showed Hermione to a chair. 'Miss Granger, as you know Minerva, is a witch who shows extraordinary talent in all of her lessons. We can now add acting to her already extensive list of abilities.'

McGonagall looked totally bewildered so he continued, his eyes twinkling all the while. Whatever it was he was talking about, he thought it was funny.

'It was quite obvious, when I visited Grimmauld Place this morning, that Miss Granger had something of importance to tell me. The ease with which she allowed me to access her thoughts – only the ones she wanted me to see, I should add, whilst keeping the rest of her mind closed to me…well, I would not expect that of a witch twice her age.' He turned to Hermione. 'And the way you convinced those poor boys you were being cast from the house…I feel sorry for anyone who ever tries to "get one over on you", as I believe the saying goes.'

'I hope they don't give Mrs Weasley a hard time over it.' Hermione sounded genuinely concerned. 'She's only did what she thought was for the best. Maybe we shoul dhave told her what we're really doing.'

'You have nothing to fear for Molly's sake. She is more than capable of holding her own and I am certain she will bring them round with an excellent dinner.'

'But, Albus' Minerva insisted, 'why are the two of you here?'

'Miss Granger believes, as I do, that there is more to Melatiah than meets the eye. I have asked her if she will assist me in some research that may prove beneficial.'

'You think she's dangerous to Harry? Some sort of spy?'

'Oh, nothing of the sort. But, I do think it would help us greatly of we knew more about her.'

-o0o-

Harry took Melatiah's hands between his own. They were so small, so delicate. 'I told Hermione I'd woken you up, last night, but I think you had another bad dream, didn't you?' She nodded.

'I hate it when I have a bad dream; sometime they feel so real. Ron always says I should talk about them. He says that talking about a bad dream makes it go away.

The one I had last night was terrible. There's this man, called Voldemort; he's the one who killed my parents. In my dream, he was having somebody else killed. He didn't do it himself, he told one of his gang to do it.'

He felt Melatiah start to shake.

'Tell me about your dream.' She shook her head. 'It will help. I know you can speak, so why won't you?'

Melatiah pulled her hands away and stood up, pacing the floor but never looking at him. He stood behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

'Tell me. Please?'

Melatiah was chewing on her lip and beating her fists against her thighs. She kept shaking her head.

'Why won't you tell me?'

Melatiah put her hands over her mouth, in a pathetic attempt to pretend her lips weren't moving; that it wasn't her speaking.

'Susan's a good girl!' She looked at him, horrified at what she'd done. Then she ran from the room and Harry could hear her sobbing as she flew up the stairs to her room.

.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry slowly pushed open her door. Melatiah was laid on the bed, facing away from him, and sobbing her heart out. She was curled into a ball, and sucking her thumb. He didn't care about Molly; Melatiah needed him. He lay next to her, putting his arms around her.

'I'm sorry; so, so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, honestly. I just wanted to help.'

She continued to cry.

'Is Susan you're real name?' He felt her nod. 'I like that; it's a pretty name. I like Melatiah too; that's special. Pretty and special, just like you are.' That brought on another fit of sobbing. 'You are, to me. I…I love you, and I'll never do anything to hurt you. I was wrong to force you to do something you didn't want, and I'll never do it again. I want you to know that, but I'll always be here, when you're ready.'

She turned towards him and burrowed into his arms. As her sobbing slowly subsided she fell asleep and they stayed like that for several hours.

Dinner that evening was quiet, and very polite. Molly did make food she knew they liked – a steak and kidney pudding – and then produced a treacle tart for desert. Harry knew it was a peace offering. Once they had finished eating he indicated that Ron and Melatiah should go ahead. He felt a bit awkward once they'd left, though.

'Mrs Weasley?' He was looking at the floor. 'I'm sorry.'

Molly put her hand on his cheek. 'I understand you feel something for her, Harry. I was young once myself, but you've got plenty of time ahead of you. Just don't rush things, yes?' He nodded. 'She's very…'

'I know. Hermione told me the same thing, honestly she did. When can she come back?'

'I'll ask Professor Dumbledore. I know it wasn't her fault.' She gave Harry a hug. 'You're a good boy, Harry. Now, go and enjoy the evening.'

Ron had come back to them as well, so they spent a quiet a quiet evening playing games and listening to the radio. It was almost fun; with just Hermione's empty chair reminding them everything wasn't perfect.

Harry said goodnight to Melatiah on the landing.

'I think we should stay in our own rooms, don't you?' She didn't look convinced. 'If they think I'm not good for you they might send you away, as well, and I don't want that. If you have a nasty dream, though, I'll come in. OK?'

Melatiah nodded and hugged him, and then they kissed and went to bed.

She lay there, unable to sleep. She still couldn't see what was wrong with them sleeping in each other's arms. How could anything that felt that nice be wrong? But it must be, or else Hermione wouldn't have had to go. What had she done to deserve that? Melatiah couldn't work it out.

There were lots of things she couldn't work out. Everything in her life had been simple, until now. She'd been naughty today, and broken her promise. She shouldn't have done that. But everyone else talked, and nobody got cross with them. It didn't seem fair.

Still, one thing she knew for certain, she would be a good girl from now on. Comforted by that she rolled over and fell into a deep and undisturbed sleep.

-o0o-

Things were almost back to normal the next day. Harry took her to the zoo. Ron decided he would rather stay at home; he had enough of animals at home.

It was a lovely day out and Harry kept buying them ice-cream and lollies. He always got big ones. They walked around, looking at all the animals and Harry explained what they were and where they came from. Melatiah knew most of them from picture books, but she'd never realised quite how big they were. The elephants were huge! They were almost as big as the cars and lorries they'd seen! She liked them. They were big, but they looked friendly.

Then, after some lunch, Harry took her into the reptile house. It was strange in there. It was darker than outside and had a funny smell. Melatiah held his hand very tightly, not sure if she liked it. They stopped in front of a big glass window.

'This is a Boa Constrictor' Harry told her. 'He knows me!' She looked at him doubtfully. 'He does! I came here once with my aunt and uncle – and Dudley.'

Harry looked round to make sure there was nobody near them and leaned very close to her ear. 'I can talk to snakes. Watch.'

He tapped gently on the glass and the Boa opened one eye.

'_Hello. How are you? Long time no sssee.'_

The snake slithered over to the glass.

'_Indeed. I sssuppossse ther'sss no posssibility…?' _He looked meaningfully at the glass and Harry laughed.

'_Not today. Sssorry.'_

'_I thought not. Never mind. Who'sss that with you? Not the sssame asss lassst time.'_

'_No. Thisss is Melatiah, ssshe'sss a friend of mine.'_

'_Isss ssshe? Jussst a friend, eh? Not your girlfriend, by any chanssse?'_

Harry smiled and blushed at such a direct question. Thank goodness nobody else was listening. He waggled his head a bit. Then Melatiah tugged at his hand, and he looked at her. She nodded her head emphatically and Harry, without thinking, turned back to the snake smiling widely.

'_Ssshe sssaysss ssshe isss…'_ He froze and slowly turned to Melatiah, who was looking down shyly.

'You can understand what we're saying?' She nodded, as if it were a statement of the obvious. 'But…I'm speaking…that's impossible.'

Melatiah shrugged. She didn't know what he meant. Harry was talking to the snake and she could understand them, so how was that a problem? Melatiah got a little worried. Had she been naughty again?

'I think we should go. Come on.' Harry took her hand and almost dragged her away.

'_Oh, fine. Goodbye. I'll sssee you around sssome day.' _The Boa slithered back to his branch. Friends and girlfriends; they never mix.

They got out into the sunshine and Harry headed for the nearest bench. He had to sit down. He took some deep breaths and started to think logically.

No, it was ridiculous. Of course Melatiah hadn't **understood** what they were saying. She'd caught the gist of the conversation from the looks the snake gave her, and Harry's reaction, that was all. Out here, in the sunshine and with children running around, it was obvious.

He gave himself a shake, and laughed. Honestly, he'd be scared of his own shadow next. If he was going to stand any chance against Voldemort he needed to calm down and grow up. He looked at Melatiah, giving her a big smile and a hug. She smiled back, happy he wasn't angry with her any more.

'Let's go and get an…ice-cream!'

She laughed and stood up. He could eat more ice-creams than anyone in the whole world! And he still had room for dinner when they eventually got back.

-o0o-

'Professor? Can I come in?'

Dumbledore put down the parchment he was reading and smiled. 'Of course, Miss Granger. Anything to report?'

Hermione sat down at his desk. 'I've found out some things, but I don't know if it's of any use to anybody.'

'Let's see, shall we?'

'Well' said Hermione, looking down at a piece of parchment in her hand, 'I'll start at the beginning.

Melatiah's real name is Susan Scrivener, the only daughter of Michael and Angela. There are no indications they have any connection with our world. Susan – Melatiah – was born when they were at University, in 1978. It was at the end of their first year. She's actually older than we are; I'd never realised that.

Michael was a local boy; the University was quite close to where he was born. Angela's from further afield. She comes from a place called Grymesdyke, in Lancashire. Apparently it's one of these old mill towns.'

Dumbledore had taken his glasses off, and was regarding her. 'Grymesdyke, you say? That's interesting.'

'Is it? I've never heard of it.'

'You know somebody who lives there.'

'Do I?

'Yes, and it's worth talking to him.' Dumbledore crossed to the fireplace and threw in a pinch of Floo Powder. 'Severus, are you at home?'

A disembodied voice came back. 'I am, Headmaster, or I would not be able to reply to you.'

'Very good. Are you busy? I have a timetabling problem for next year. If it's convenient can I ask you to step into my office?'

A few moments later, Snape unfolded himself from the fireplace. He did not acknowledge Hermione. 'A timetable problem? Was that the best you could come up with?'

Dumbledore waved his wand at the fireplace, sealing it. 'I don't know how secure the Floo network is these days. Please, have a seat. Tea?' Snape shook his head.

'Miss Granger has been doing some research for me about this girl, Melatiah.' Snape did not move his head to look at her. 'Do you know anybody from Grymesdyke called…?' Dumbledore looked at Hermione, who went back to her parchment.

'Angela Scrivener…no, wait, that was her married name. Angela Ormerod, born in 1960.'

'The name does not sound familiar. She was a Muggle?'

'Yes.'

'Then, no.' He had not taken his eye off Dumbledore. 'I had no contact with any muggleborn in Grymesdyke.'

'Except one.'

'Except one' Snape acknowledged, with a slight tilt of his head. 'Was that all, Professor?'

'Yes, thank you Severus. I shall not detain you further.'

Snape stood and made his way back to the fireplace. As he did so he looked at the large pieces of parchment lying on a near-by table. Dumbledore had indeed been working on the new timetable. Snape's face showed the first sign of emotion since he had arrived.

'6th Year DADA first thing Monday morning? Did you do that on purpose, Headmaster?'

'Dumbledore tried to restrain a smile. 'Of course not, Severus! It's just the way things turned out.'

'I don't suppose any of us are happy about it, are we _Professor_?' said Hermione to Snape.

'I'll look on the bright side, _Miss _Granger. It will be far worse for you than it will for me. I assume you've already memorised the book? So much easier than having to..think. Good day, Headmaster.'

He was gone, and Hermione had a blush on her face.

'Ah' sighed Dumbledore, smiling. '"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers".' He tried to appear businesslike. 'Tea, Miss Granger, and then we must pay a visit to Harry's Aunt Petunia. Have you ever met?'

'No, I've only seen her at King's Cross' replied Hermione, totally confused. 'Why are we going there?'

'Mrs Dursley also hails from Grymsdyke; it's a popular place, isn't it? So, by default, did her sister Lily – Harry's mother. They were born around the same time, so may have known each other at school. Now, if you will excuse me whilst I change. I do not think I should walk along privet Drive dressed like this. What would the neighbours say?'

Hermione laughed and agreed with him. 'Yes, we have to keep up appearances.'

He returned a short while later, wearing brown corduroy trousers and a hacking jacket that had seen better days. Hermione thought he looked just like…a professor, a rather batty one.

'Headmaster, I've been thinking.'

'I knew Severus was wrong; of course you can. Were you thinking about anything in particular?'

'Well, this trip. Is it really necessary? I mean, they were both born in the same town, but isn't it just a co-incidence?'

'It is far too big a co-incidence to actually be one, I think. We shall see.' He paused. 'Do you honestly memorise all the books? How extraordinary.'

Hermione was left opening and shutting her mouth, like a goldfish.


	11. Chapter 11

Petunia Dursley had had a good day, so far. Dudley had eaten enough breakfast and lunch to keep him going until dinnertime and was now working on motor co-ordination skills with his game station, killing aliens.

Vernon had been quiet at breakfast and was mercifully out of her life until at least 6 o'clock. She gave a small sigh. Why couldn't he spend all evening in the pub with his friends, like normal men after twenty years of marriage? Oh yes, he didn't have any friends.

She had noticed that the man at Number 12 had a new company car. It was a better model than his previous one; perhaps he'd been promoted. The Dursleys had never spoken to them, obviously, but if he was getting on in the world maybe it was time to invite them over for drinks one evening.

The sun shone on the salvias, which were particularly good this year, and Petunia was happy. All was secure in her little kingdom.

Then she saw him, walking along _her_ road, in front of _her_ neighbours, in broad daylight, as if he had a perfect right to. For a brief second she cherished the idea he might be going somewhere else. No…he wasn't and she knew that. He was coming here, and bringing somebody with him.

A young girl…she seemed familiar. Petunia let out a sigh, and went to put the kettle on.

-o0o-

Hermione felt surprisingly at home walking along Privet Drive. It was very similar to where she lived, though she was rather proud of the fact her house was bigger – and probably in a _slightly_ better location. She secretly suspected her parents were better off than the Dursleys, and that gave her confidence.

It was the sort of road she would probably live in, one day. Semi-detached, four bedrooms, room for two cars on the drive and convenient for the train station. At least…she might have done. Would it be possible to live somewhere like this and still be a witch? She wondered about that.

Then she stood in front of Number Four. Yes, she recognised the sort of people who would live in a house like this one. It screamed out "nosey neighbour". A place for everything and everything in its place. The net curtains were hung in such a way they could be "twitched" without anybody noticing. The annual bedding in the weed free borders was planted with a mathematical precision and so sense of art. They even had scarlet salvias – bold as soldiers and as upright. The house, even in the sun, looked cold and sterile.

'Here we are' said Dumbledore. 'Harry's home.'

'No wonder he hates it. I suppose we have to go in?'

'I'm afraid we must, Miss Granger.'

'It'll smell of air freshener.'

Dumbledore smiled at her and led the way to the door.

Petunia answered it before he could ring the bell. 'Get inside. Quickly, before you're seen.'

'And "Good Afternoon" to you, Mrs Dursley.' Dumbledore gave a small bow. 'We shall not outstay our welcome.' Hermione giggled quietly.

-o0o-

'Is it the boy?' Petunia asked, looking at them over the rim of her tea cup. 'What's he done now?' A worried look crossed her face. 'He is going back to that…place, isn't he?'

'Harry is well' Dumbledore assured her, 'and he will be returning to Hogwarts in September. I shall pass your best wishes on to him. I am here today regarding another matter; something you may be able to assist me with.'

Petunia looked guardedly at him.

'I am seeking information on a woman who would be about your age. Her name was Angela Ormerod. Did you ever meet her?'

Petunia looked away, the lie obvious on her face. 'Why should I have done?'

'She was born in Grymsdyke. In 1960.'

Petunia started. She had worked hard losing her regional accent and none of their…acquaintances knew she had been raised in a mill town in the industrial north of England. She was now Home Counties through and through.

'I'm afraid she is dead; killed shortly before your sister and her husband. She left behind a daughter, who has now come under my care.'

'Angela wasn't a _freak_' Petunia spat out, before she could stop herself.

Dumbledore regarded her solemnly. 'She had no magical ability I am aware of. Her daughter was cared for by somebody who knows of me, and contacted me recently. Miss Granger here only became aware of her mother's home town this morning.'

'She was Lily's friend, not mine. They were at school together.' Dumbledore nodded, as if something had just been confirmed. Petunia paused and turned her eyes to Hermione, dark eyes trying to hide their sadness. 'Harry's spoken about you. You're like Lily, aren't you? You're not _one of them_.'

'I'm muggleborn, yes' said Hermione, lifting her chin.

'And always top of the year. He says you're intelligent.' Hermione gave a self-depreciating smile. 'Then get out whilst you still can; before you end up like my sister.' Hermione blanched at the waves of bitterness she felt coming off this woman.

'Anyway' said Dumbledore, dragging the conversation back, 'any information you may have could be of help to us.'

Petunia considered him. 'Stay there.' She left the kitchen, returning shortly with a photo album, which she flicked through. 'There' she said, putting a picture of a school class in front of them. She pointed. 'That's Lily, Angela's standing next to her.'

They looked at the little group, maybe seven or eight years old. Hermione could spot Lily Evans. 'Harry's got her eyes. I've heard people say that before. And this is Angela?'

Petunia nodded. 'They were best friends; Angela often used to come round to play.'

They looked again. Angela Ormerod was a slight girl, a good head shorter than Lily already, with dark hair. She didn't look pinched, or unwell, just delicately boned, but with a happy smile on her face. Yes, they could see Melatiah in her, and that made Hermione feel sad. Another child who would never know their parents. An orphan cast adrift and left to fate. Why?

'Did Lily stay in contact with her as she grew?' Dumbledore asked.

'Of course not,' Petunia sneered. She looked back at Hermione. 'That's another thing you'll learn, girl. Once they get their hooks into you you'll have to give up everything you were born with; family, friends. They're like one of these religious sects.'

'Don't be ridiculous!'

Petunia pointed back at the picture. 'How many of your primary school friend – your _normal_ friends - do you still see?' Hermione didn't answer her. 'I thought so.'

Dumbledore coughed. 'Well, we shall not take up any more of your valuable time. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Dursley. Come, Miss Granger.'

Hermione hesitated. 'Could I have a copy of this picture, please?' she asked quietly. 'I think Harry and Melatiah might like to see it.'

'I could make a copy, if you have no objections?' Dumbledore said to Petunia.

'Do what you have to, and then get out.' She tried once more with Hermione. 'Remember what I said to you.'

-o0o-

Hermione was very quiet when the got back to Hogwarts. She kept looking at the picture they brought with them.

'Thinking again, Miss Granger?' Dumbledore asked her kindly. She nodded. 'About Melatiah, or Petunia Dursley? Or yourself?'

Hermione looked at him. 'I'm not sure. What she said is right, in part. I don't see anybody from…before here anymore. Do I have to make a choice?'

'Of course not. She was wrong, you know, about "people like us". You always have your free will, and nothing can change that. It is true, however, that by the time you leave Hogwarts most of your friends will be in the magical world as, most likely, will your career.

It can make things awkward for you. How do you tell your muggle friends what you do for a living? That is something you may have to accept, but it is not brainwashing, just circumstance.

Now, have you come to any conclusions about why Melatiah is an orphan, after our visit?'

Hermione thought for a while. 'I can't see that her parents were killed at random; that would just be…but why them? Angela hadn't been in contact with Lily for years; she probably didn't even know Lily was a witch.' Hermione looked up in amazement. 'She didn't know!'

Dumbledore smiled at her over his glasses. 'Carry on.'

'You can't keep a secret if you don't know it's a secret, can you?'

'No.'

'So she wouldn't have been affected by a Fidelius Charm.' Hermione was talking almost to herself and doing what she was good at, despite what Snape had said. She was thinking fast and logically. 'The Death Eaters were looking for somebody outside who may have still been in contact with Lily, who was just an old school friend. Somebody who might have known where she was.'

'I think you are possibly right. They were trying to find the Potters at the time, and thought that a muggle friend would be able to tell them where they were.'

'They didn't stand a chance, did they?'

'None.'

'And poor Melatiah was so traumatised by what she saw that night she's never spoken since.'

'Also possible. That is what we need to find out next; what she did see, and what actually happened.'

'It will be terrible for her, having to re-live…'

'But necessary, I think.'

'So she can re-build her life?'

'Yes…that will be important to her.'

'Can I go back to Grimmauld Place now, please? Unless you need me...?

Dumbledore smiled. 'I think you can; now you have "served your sentence"! Of course, you will have to explain you were not "in disgrace".''

'I think I can manage. They aren't the smartest!'

'But you are, Miss Granger. Thank you for your assistance here, it has been most important.' Hermione blushed. 'So, was Professor Snape correct? Have you started work on your subjects for next year yet?'

Hermione blushed again, and looked down. 'Well, a little bit.'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'It is nothing to be embarrassed about. I wish all my pupils were as diligent. I will lend you a book from my own collection which you may find useful for Defence Against Dark Arts. Who knows, you may be capable of surprising him.'

'Thank you!'

'All I would ask is that you do not show it to Messrs Potter and Weasley.' He winked at her conspiratorially. 'I fear it may be beyond them.' Hermione beamed.

-o0o-

'Hello boys!' Hermione rushed into the room, and was immediately swamped by Harry and Ron.

'He let you come back!' Harry was happy beyond belief. Ron and Hermione – and now Melatiah – were a part of him. He couldn't be complete unless he had his friends around him.

Hermione was trying to laugh and cry at the same time. 'Yes! I had "a little chat" with Professor Dumbledore and he agreed that I could. He…well, he thinks I'm the only one who can keep you two in line!'

'The cheek of him!' said Ron, who had also missed Hermione – more than he could admit. She meant a lot to him, he knew that.

'So, anyway, we can spend the rest of the summer together.' She broke away from them. 'Hello, Melatiah! How are you?' Melatiah nodded and smiled. 'Good.!'

Should she tell them her news now? Not about the need to get Melatiah talking; that would need to be handled very carefully. She could tell her what she'd discovered about her background, though, after explaining the real reason she went away.

On the other hand…she had Professor Dumbledore's book in her suitcase and…it was a book she'd never read before. And it was getting quite late…almost ten o'clock. She made her mind up. The news could wait.

'Anyway, it's taken me ages to get here, and I really need a shower…and then bed would do me good. So, I'll see you in the morning.'

Safely tucked up in bed she opened her suitcase and took the book out. It was old; very old, covered in black leather. At least, she hoped it was leather. Something about it made her shudder. This wasn't a book about Defence Against Dark Arts it was a book **about** Dark Arts, she knew that for certain. Why had he given it to her? He obviously regarded her very highly!

She looked at the title, and her impressions were confirmed:

_Secrets of the Darkest Art_


	12. Chapter 12

Breakfast got a bit rushed the next morning; Harry and Ron were so desperate to get back together with their friend they even refused seconds. It felt like she'd been gone for days.

'Did you have to persuade him? Did he make you promise anything?'

Hermione looked very contrite. 'Look, I've got to apologise to you – all three of you.'

'Why? You didn't do anything wrong!' Ron was on his feet. Hermione realised he was the quickest to defend her; she'd never noticed that before.

'Calm down! I didn't mean he said I had to say…let me do the talking. They didn't make me go away and…I didn't go home.' She smiled apologetically. 'I was at Hogwarts.'

'You've lost me' said Harry. 'You ran out of here in tears.'

'We planned it like that; it was the easiest way for me to get out without telling you why, but I can tell you now what it was all about.' She waited for the barrage of question.

'Maybe it is easier if you just talk' said Ron eventually. 'The Legilimency obviously isn't working.'

Hermione laughed. 'OK!' Then her face became serious as she looked at Melatiah. 'Professor Dumbledore asked me to help him find out about you. Do you want to know?' Melatiah nodded.

'Well, your real name is Susan…Susan Scrivener.'

'We knew that' said Harry, which caused Hermione to goggle at him. 'Mel…Sus…Melatiah said it the other night.'

'You can talk?' Hermione demanded of her. 'Then why don't you?'

'Hermione, it isn't that simple.' Harry immediately stepped in; he could see Melatiah didn't like being challenged. He couldn't have her being hurt. 'Melatiah is capable of speech, but…there's a reason she won't. I don't know what it is yet.' He held Melatiah's hand. 'It's alright; nobody's cross with you.' He smiled in reassurance and then turned back to Hermione. 'Just…take it steady, OK?'

'OK' said Hermione, slowly. Harry's protection affected Hermione deeply. He really did care about the girl and she'd never seen him like this before. She wondered what the reaction would be when they found out how old Melatiah really was. 'This bit gets awkward. We think your parents were killed because…I'm sorry, because your mum knew Harry's.'

'My mum?' Harry asked, amazed. 'How?'

'They grew up together and were best friends at school. We think that the Death Eaters were trying to find out where your parents were hiding by hunting down your mum's muggle friends; they wouldn't have been affected by the Fidelius Charm, you see.'

Harry put his face in his hands; he honestly didn't need that. More deaths that could be attributed to him; his family. Was he truly cursed? He looked at Melatiah, half fearful of her expression. Would she blame him, leave him?

He took her hand in his. 'I'm sorry.' She stroked his face, and made him look at her, and leant forward and kissed him. He couldn't have stopped the tears, even if he'd wanted to.

'We found a picture of them. Would you like to see it?'

Harry and Melatiah looked at her in wonderment, and nodded. She put the picture on the table.

'This was taken when they were at school, they were about eight, I think. That's your mum, Harry.' She pointed and Harry nodded.

'I recognise her, even there.'

'Me too. You have got her eyes, you know. And this is your mum, Melatiah.'

Melatiah stared at the small child Hermione was pointing to. Yes, she could remember a face, something like this one, if she tried very hard. She reached out a finger and very gently touched the picture, staring at the face. 'My mummy.' Then she threw herself into Harry's arms and wept.

Hermione made nodding motions to Ron and they left the room. It was not a scene they could share. Hermione took them both off to a spare room and flopped into a chair, not far from tears herself.

'Should I have done that? Was it right? I don't know.'

Ron clenched his fists a couple of times, and then he went to sit by her side. Very slowly, he put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug.

'Thank you.'

Ron even offered his hanky, but she wasn't that upset and got out her own.

'Of course you were right. Everyone has the right to know what their parents looked like. You were right.'

Hermione blew her nose, and gave him a watery smile. 'You're coming on, you know.'

He gave her another hug – it felt…nice. 'I try.'

-o0o-

Harry and Melatiah came to find them, and the girls hugged each other. Ron looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow; Harry shrugged in return and Ron nodded.

'You spoke' said Hermione said to Melatiah. 'You can do it, can't you?'

Melatiah looked embarrassed, so Harry took over. 'I told you she can, but she won't, and I can't figure it out.' He gave her hand a squeeze, to reassure her.

'But why?' Hermione pondered. She didn't like not having an answer. 'Why would you not do something, if you're capable of doing it?'

It was Ron who surprised them all by coming up with an answer, through his own form of logic.

'Because you'll get a clip round the ear from your mum? I remember this time she'd put some cakes out on the kitchen window sill to cool, and she told me not to touch them. Well, I could have reached, obviously…' He trailed off when he realised his friends weren't listening to him. Instead they were staring at Melatiah. 'I thought it was a funny story, but…'

'Is that why you don't speak, Melatiah?' Hermione asked. 'Because your mum told you not to?' Melatiah nodded. 'When the men came?' Melatiah nodded again, and looked close to tears once more. Hermione took her into another hug.

'Oh, Melatiah! Oh you poor thing! She didn't mean…she wanted you to be quiet so the men wouldn't find you. She never meant…'

Harry remembered back to the first time Dumbledore had introduced them. He had said that the old witch had found Melatiah, hidden under a coat.

Harry took her off Hermione. 'I'm sorry; I never realised the explanation was that simple. Hermione's right; your mum only wanted you to be quiet so the men wouldn't find you and hurt you. She didn't want you to stay silent forever.'

Melatiah looked lost and confused. She had been a good girl all these years, had done what her mummy had told her to do. Were her friends right? Harry must be; he wouldn't tell lies. It was still hard, though. She looked at them, wanting to trust and believe them…but she didn't want to be naughty.

Harry stroked her hands gently. 'I know; it must be hard for you. All these years…just take your time and do what you think is right.'

Ron had been listening in. He was trying to imagine a situation where he would do exactly what his mum had told him for so long. He actually felt a bit bad about the cake incident. He'd got round it by persuading Ginny to take some, and then share them. At the time it had seemed a perfect solution. His mum had spotted the flaw in his plan almost instantly, though. He still remembered the clout she'd given him, even after all these years.

He still remembered…'Melatiah, how comes you can remember her saying that? You could only have been a baby.'

'No' said Hermione, 'she wasn't. Melatiah, do you know how old you are?' Melatiah nodded, confidently. 'Do you want to tell us?'

Melatiah didn't look quite so sure at that. Were they right? Was she allowed to speak? It was Harry who decided it for her. Every time she was upset he said nice things to her and she wanted so desperately to do the same for him. She took a deep breath.

'I am eighteen.' Her voice was quiet and rasping and, even though they could understand the words, the intonation wasn't clear. It was a voice that hadn't been used consciously for a long time.

Harry smiled at her. 'It's lovely you hear you talk! You're eighteen? Older than us.' Ron caught his eye and grinned. An older girlfriend – every boy's great fantasy! Harry smiled, despite himself.

'That's why Melatiah can remember much more clearly than you can, Harry.' She had a thought. 'I suppose you should decide what you want us to call you. Will you stay as Melatiah?'

'Don't know. Melatiah is my happy name. Su..Sus…' Her face crumpled and Harry helped her to a chair, sitting her on his lap.

'It's OK; we're here.'

She looked at him. 'You are so kind to me.' She touched her fingers to his face. 'Harry. My Harry. I …I love you.'

Even Ron had to wipe his eyes. Hermione was openly crying. Harry felt that his life had just started at this moment. Melatiah looked at them all.

'I will be Melatiah, Melatiah with my friends.'

-o0o-

They sat around after dinner, as usual. It was nice, the best it had been for days. They were together, and Melatiah was talking and tomorrow…maybe they'd all go out for the day. But for now, they were just happy to sit.

Ron was, yet again, trying to teach Hermione how to play chess. She was, yet again, losing. As her King once more threw down his crown Ron gave an exaggerated sigh.

'I can't understand it, you know. You're loads cleverer than I am, so how comes I always beat you.'

'You don't play sensibly.'

'What? How can you say that?'

'Well, you don't' Hermione huffed. She didn't like losing, especially when she thought she shouldn't. 'I mean, in that game you just gave your Queen away. You shouldn't do that; it isn't logical.'

'It's called a gambit' Ron told her, trying not to be patronising. 'You were building quite a nice little attack on the left…'

'I know. And it would have beaten you.'

'…but then I offered my Queen and you went rushing off to capture her. It pulled your pieces out of position and left a huge hole in your defence.' He smirked. 'And I won!'

'But a Queen's an important piece. Capturing it should be important.'

'You have to take a long view. Losing a piece is like losing a battle. It's worthwhile if it means you win the game in the end.'

Hermione didn't quite know how to answer that without sounding childish, so she didn't bother.

Meanwhile, Harry and Melatiah were sat by the table looking at the picture Hermione had brought them.

'That's a point' said Harry. 'Where did you get it?'

Hermione looked round quickly. 'I forgot to tell you! We went to see your Aunt Petunia. That's how we found out about your mums knowing each other. She gave it to us.'

Harry was stunned. 'She had this? All these years she's had it in the house…' His head drooped. 'She never showed it to me. Not once. Why did she keep it? They never got on.'

Hermione went to sit by him. 'I don't think that's true. I think Petunia cared about her a lot, but she got left behind. Maybe she's jealous; I certainly think she was hurt. When your mum found out she was a witch, Petunia felt like she couldn't compete, and then your mum started making her own friends…but she never hated her.'

Harry turned back to the photo. 'So sad. Look at them. They're so young, and happy. I wish I could have known them.'

Melatiah held his hand. 'Can you remember her?'

Harry shrugged. 'Not really. I was too young. I've only got one memory. What about you?'

'A little bit. Mummy would sing me songs. I can remember the songs.'

'Do you remember anything about the night she your parents died?' Hermione asked gently. 'Professor Dumbledore thinks that, if you can, you should talk about it. It will help you.'

Melatiah shrugged a little bit. 'Men came in and mummy put me under her coat and told me to be a good girl and not to say anything.' She looked at them pleadingly. 'I did not know…' they all nodded and said that of course they understood. 'Then there was lots of…shouting and…mummy screaming and…'

'Melatiah, no.' Harry looked at Hermione. 'You can't make her do this. Melatiah, don't think about it any more.'

'No, I want to. My mummy and daddy. Then it was quiet and a man said "they don't know" and another man said…' Melatiah had to wipe her eyes and steel herself to face her past. 'Another man said "Then they must die" and they said "Yes, Lord". I don't like that name. It does not sound a nice name. Then there was no more noise and I did not know what to do so I stayed under the coat like mummy told me and I was quiet. Then mother came and took me away.'

Harry hugged her and let her cry. There was nothing else he could do. Hermione looked at him and mouthed 'Voldemort?' Harry nodded. Just like his parents, Melatiah's had been killed by Voldemort himself. It was another reason to kill him, and reason Harry would do anything to take vengeance.

-o0o-

Harry had insisted he was spending the night with Melatiah. He couldn't leave her on her own after what she had been through. Hermione had agreed with him, so had gone to see Mrs Weasley.

Molly had thought that Hermione, or herself, should stay with the girl if it really was necessary, and Hermione had had to use all her intellect to come up with an argument that sway her. Eventually it had come down to just how much Molly trusted Harry. If she did, then it was clear that his only interest was helping Melatiah.

Molly realised she had been backed into a corner. To continue would be to suggest that Harry had a dishonourable motive, and she couldn't bring herself to say that about him. She gave in, though not without misgivings. After all, they were so young…

Hermione had looked in on them before going to bed herself. Harry had his arms around Melatiah, forming a shield to keep her safe. They were both asleep and seemed so calm…so right. She was glad she'd persuaded Molly to let them stay together.

Now she lay in bed herself; her emotions exhausted. Had she done the right thing? She thought so. Yes it had been hard for them all, but they had made enormous progress. Melatiah had cried for a long time, but Hermione thought that was a good sign. The girl had finally been able to grieve for her parents, and that was important. She could now start to move on. It was good that Melatiah was speaking again. All those years of silence, just because she wanted to be good. It was so unnecessary, so upsetting…

Hermione knew she would never be able to sleep until she relaxed, so she reached for her book, opening it at random.

"…_and for its creation the Wizard must be willing to sacrifice the very sanctity of his soul, for a Horocrux can only be created by that most foul of deeds – the murder of a fellow human."_

Hermione slept.


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione was in the kitchen on her own when Melatiah came down the next morning, as Molly had gone shopping. Keeping the house supplied with food was a major task.

'Hello!' said Hermione brightly. She wanted to be friends with the girl. Melatiah was so young and, Hermione thought, still vulnerable. She needed somebody to take her under their wing.

Melatiah smiled back and nodded. It took her a moment to realise she was released from her promise. 'Good morning!'

'Is Harry still asleep?'

'Yes, Harry is fast asleep.'

Hermione got up to make them both tea, and they settled down with their cups.

'How are you feeling this morning?' Hermione wasn't sure if she should raise what had happened last night.

'I am well.'

'Last night…I'm sorry if what you found out was upsetting for you.'

'It was very sad. I do not think about my Mummy and Daddy for a long time and I do not want them to be hurted.'

'I know, but it's important that you found out, and that you are speaking again. I think it will help you.'

Hermione put her hand on Melatiah's. 'You've missed out on a lot of things, like going to school and having friends your age. We can do something about that, now.'

'Yes. But I miss Mummy and Daddy, and I miss mother, too. She is…she…'

'Of course you do. But there is no reason why you can't go and visit her. You know that she contacted Professor Dumbledore because she loves you very much, don't you?'

Melatiah was crying a little bit. 'I know that, she has said that to me but I still miss her.' She thought for a while. 'Sometimes she has trouble walking. Why can I not look after her?'

Hermione considered her response. 'I think she knew that you had not learnt a lot of things, and she was worried what would happen to you if….'

'But if I learn how to be a proper big girl then I can look after her and get her things.'

Hermione smiled. It was obvious that was what Melatiah wanted. 'Yes, I think you can. Of course you can! I will talk to the Professor. If you learn things and …' she wasn't quite sure how to put this, so used language Melatiah would understand, 'become a grown-up then I'm sure you will be able to go back and look after her.'

She was rewarded with a big sunny smile. Melatiah wanted to go back to her home, and the only real mother she had ever known.

'And we'll help you, all of us.'

'And Harry can come with me and we can all be together and be happy for ever and ever!'

Hermione smiled and nodded. This girl was heartbreakingly young for all her eighteen years. She decided to change the subject. 'So, what do you fancy doing today? If we can ever get the boys out of bed, that is!'

'I do not know. Harry taked me to the zoo the other day. That was fun! I had…four ice creams.' She looked at Hermione sheepishly.

'Four ice creams! What else did you do?'

'We saw all the animals and Harry taked me to see his friend the snake. Harry can talk to snakes, you know.'

'Yes, I know. Some people can do it. So, what did he say?'

Melatiah blushed a little. 'The snake asked Harry if I was his girlfriend and Harry would not say, so I told him to say yes!'

Hermione thought that was quite sweet. 'Harry told you what the snake said, did he?'

'No' said Melatiah, looking a little confused. 'The snake asked Harry.'

Hermione let that go. Obviously Harry had explained it all to Melatiah, but Hermione didn't want to press her. She was just happy to let Melatiah talk whenever she wanted too; fine meaning could come later.

They chatted on for a while longer. Hermione's interest was piqued by this girl, and she wanted to know how much Melatiah knew. She could read and told Hermione that she liked story books, especially _Beadle the Bard. _Hermione shook her head at that, it not being one she was familiar with, but made a note to try and get some of her books from home. _Beadle _sounded like a collection of fairy stories, so maybe Melatiah would like _Cinderella_ or something similar. Melatiah also knew enough to follow a recipe, and seemed quite confident around the kitchen.

It was obvious that the woman who had raised Melatiah had tried to teach her but didn't have any experience of how to do so. Hermione estimated that Melatiah had the educational level of maybe a ten year old. It was a great shame, as she obviously wasn't unintelligent and Hermione thought that, with intensive tuition, she could catch up eventually.

Her language was good, too, but unpractised. She had no problem with comprehension, but made quite a few grammatical errors when she spoke. It was nothing major and Hermione was convinced it would resolve itself in time.

Melatiah was exactly what she appeared to be; a rather charming girl who had got stuck longer in childhood than she should have done. They carried on chatting until Melatiah started rubbing her throat.

'Are you alright?'

'Sore' said Melatiah, with a little grimace.

'It's because you aren't used to talking yet. I can make you something for that.' She got up and found some honey and lemons to make Melatiah a hot drink with. 'This will help you feel better. You might have to only talk a little bit at a time for a while. Now, I'll get the boys up then we can have breakfast.'

-o0o-

In the end they decided to take Melatiah so see Diagon Alley, which she had heard about but never visited. It was worth it just to see the expression on her face as they took her through the archway. It was all Harry could do to keep up with her as she rushed from shop to shop, peering in through the windows. Eventually he had to tell her to keep hold of his hand, which she didn't mind at all.

It was a strange experience for them all, that day. Melatiah was a muggle, who knew lots about their world. She could tell them about most of the ingredients they could see in Apothecary's shop, explained the different cauldrons and even knew what Ollivander's sold. Harry wanted to buy her something, but he didn't know what. It couldn't be anything magical – and he wasn't sure if he was allowed to anyway.

Then he saw Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and the problem was solved. If anything, Melatiah's eyes were even bigger than the sundae she was served. She still managed to eat it though!

Harry also got her a _Witch Weekly_ when they went into Flourish and Blotts as she said she liked looking it. Harry was about to pay when Hermione had an idea.

'Melatiah, you can buy it; Harry will give you the money.' Melatiah looked a little nervous. 'It's quite easy.

You give the lady at the counter the money, and she gives you back the change. Now, how much does it cost?'

Melatiah looked at the cover. 'Two sickles.'

'Alright, so if Harry gives you a five sickles what should you get back?'

Melatiah thought for a moment. 'Three sickles.'

'Well done!' Hermione smiled and Melatiah looked pleased with herself. 'Go on, then.'

'Will you come with me?'

'Of course I will.'

Melatiah was proud of herself when she came back. It was the first time she'd every paid for something herself. It was another experience to add to very few, but it was a start.

They went to the burger bar Harry and Melatiah had visited previously for lunch, and this time Melatiah was able to ask for what she wanted. Ron and Hermione almost felt like outsiders as they sat there, suspecting that people couldn't get that much burger sauce on their chins by accident.

Harry and Melatiah had a great time, making faces at each other as they tried to make as much noise as possible slurping the last of their milkshakes through their straws.

Harry felt truly happy. He was glad that his relationship with Melatiah was out in the open, and that his friends appeared to approve. As they sat there, laughing and chatting, he felt as if he were finally building the family he so desperately wanted. He even went into a little daydream of this being a few years time, and them all sat here with their children. He knew it was silly, and that they had lots to do before then…

His brow darkened. Yes, there were a few things – like destroying Voldemort, and trying to stay alive in the process. Suddenly the sun seemed to have gone in. He stared out of the window, looking at the people in the street going about their business. He was not like them; normal, ordinary people who could daydream about the future. He was the subject of a prophecy that had to be fulfilled, one way or the other.

'All finished? Shall we go?'

'Where shall we go, Harry?' Melatiah asked him, in all innocence.

'Somewhere else. Come on.' He stood and walked to the door, leaving the other trailing in his wake.

Melatiah looked sad. They were having such a nice time, and suddenly Harry seemed cross. Had she done something wrong? She looked to Hermione, the worry clear on her face. Hermione knew Harry better than Melatiah did, and could recognise his change in mood.

She smiled encouraging at Melatiah. 'He's fine. He's got a lot to think about at the moment. Go to him.'

Melatiah did and gave him a hesitant kiss. He caught the worry in her stance and felt bad about it.

'I'm sorry' he said apologetically. Then he smiled as best as he could and gave her a kiss in return. 'I'm sorry. Come on; let's see what we can find.'

What they found was a park, and even better, it had a giant outdoor chess set. Melatiah asked Ron if he wanted to play, and he readily agreed.

'Shame it's only muggle chess, we could have great fun with a wizard set this size.' He looked around. 'Of course, there aren't many people…'

'Ron! I absolutely forbid you to transfigure those pieces! If anyone were…'

'I'm only joking, Hermione!' He winked at Harry, who laughed. Ribbing Hermione was sometimes just too easy.

Harry and Hermione settled themselves on a bench so they could watch the game, except they didn't. Harry was watching Melatiah, and Hermione was watching Ron. It was her turn to laugh.

'We're like a couple of parents making sure the children are playing nicely!' Harry had to agree with her.

'Yeah, sometimes I feel…well, I don't know what I feel.' He didn't feel quite comfortable talking about his feelings yet, even with Hermione. 'I love her, I can't tell you how much. It isn't just…you know, either.' He began to warm to his theme. 'I really care about her. I want to look after her and protect her. Last night…when she fell asleep in my arms, it just, it was like it was meant to be. You know?'

Hermione nodded, but had to bite on her lip to keep the yearning off her face. She didn't know what it was like to fall asleep in somebody's arms. She didn't know what it was like to be cared for, to have somebody to care about. It was only eighteen months ago that Ron had finally got round to realising she was a girl. How much longer would it take before he realised they were more than friends? Anyway, that was her problem. She turned back to Harry and smiled.

'I know. I've seen how you care about her. I'm sorry if I jumped to conclusions.'

Harry shook his head. 'I understand.'

'If there's anything you want to talk about…I know I'm not an expert, but I'll try.' She looked at him very earnestly.

Harry thought for a moment. 'There is one thing...' Hermione cocked her eyebrow. 'What does "32A" mean?'

Hermione goggled. 'What? I mean, pardon?'

'32A. The lady in the shop said it and I've been, you know, wondering.'

'Well…it's a bra size.'

'Yes. But what does it mean?'

'It means she's got a 32 inch chest.'

'So what does the "A" stand for?'

'It's the cup size.' Harry looked lost. 'How big your…bosom is.' Harry's eyes took on a life of their own, and Hermione let out a sigh. 'I'm a 34C. Yes, it was obvious .'

Harry blushed. 'Sorry' he muttered. Then his head shot up. 'C?' He was now completely confused. Hermione was wondering why, then realised and burst into a fit of giggles.

'They aren't like exam results! "A" doesn't mean "Acceptable".' She had to cover her mouth to stifle the laughter.

'It's not my fault; how's a boy meant to know things like that?'

'True' she admitted. Then she let out what could only be described as a guffaw. It was so loud both Ron and Melatiah looked over, wondering what was going on. 'I'm try…I'm trying….' It was no good, and she had to wave her hands around until she calmed down.

'I'm sorry' she said, trying desperately to regain her composure, 'but I'm just wondering what an…"Outstanding" would be!' She gave in completely, and spent several minutes lying helplessly on the bench, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

Harry wished he hadn't said anything.

Eventually she calmed down, though still had to wipe her eyes occasionally and couldn't look at Harry without sniggering.

'Come on, Romeo; let's get these two home.'


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: This story is M rated and there are naughty bits in this chapter_.

* * *

'Melatiah, dear, will you help me wash the dishes, please? The rest of you can go if you want.'

'Of course I will help. I like helping.'

Dinner was over for another night and Molly thought it was about time she had another "little chat" with Melatiah. It was obviously far too late to bolt the stable door, so Molly was now more concerned with reigning in the horse before anybody got hurt. They cleared the table and started the dishes swirling in the sink before Molly spoke.

'So, are you going to sleep in your own room tonight? I think it would be best.'

'I do not think so, Mrs Weasley. I like it when I sleep in Harry's bed. It makes me feel happy, and I do not have my nasty dreams.'

'Hmm. Well, I still think you should try. What are you going to do when he goes back to school.'

Melatiah thought about that for a while, she didn't want Harry to ever go away. 'I do not know. I think I will be a very sad girl. Is he away for a long time?'

'Until Christmas.' She saw Melatiah's mouth turn down. 'But it will soon go.' Molly knew that Melatiah had an enormous crush on Harry, maybe more. She felt so sorry for the girl, having to part from him so soon after moving out of the only home she had ever known.

'It will be a long time.' Then Melatiah gave a huge grin. 'But it will be the best Christmas ever when I see him again!'

Molly laughed. 'I'm sure it will be. Tell me, has Professor Dumbledore told you where you will stay when Harry does go back to school?'

'No, he did not say. Will I stay here?'

'I don't think that will be possible. I've got to go home, you see, so there'll be nobody to look after you.'

Melatiah's face crumpled. 'Then I do not know where I can go.' It was enough to break Molly's heart.

'Do you want to come and stay with me? None of my children will be there, and Mr Weasley is at work all day, so sometimes it can get a bit lonely.'

It would only be one more body at Christmas and they could cope. Melatiah would just have to accept she would be sharing with Ginny, though. That was absolutely certain and not open to negotiation. Although, what Ginny would have to say about it…

Melatiah gave another grin, and clapped her hands. 'Can I? And will you teach me how to be a big girl so that I can go home to look after mother?' Molly nodded and Melatiah started jumping up and down. 'That is what I want and then one day Harry will come to live with me as well.'

'Harry is going to live with you?' That was news to Molly and suddenly everything seemed to be going very fast again.

'Of course!' said Melatiah, in a surprised tone. 'The Princess meets a Prince and they get married and all live happily ever after. That is what always happens!'

Molly didn't quite know what to say to that. She couldn't just tell Melatiah to stop being silly, or have the conversation you would normally have with a grown girl who was acting like an eight year old. Maybe it was something she could work on over the next few months.. 'Of course it does. How silly of me to forget.'

-o0o-

Harry and Melatiah stood on the landing, outside his room.

'Mrs Weasley says I must sleep in my room tonight, Harry, but I do not want to. What if I have a nasty dream?'

Harry hugged her. That felt nice. 'Well, if you are going to have a nasty dream, perhaps it would be better if you stay with me.'

'So you can look after me?' Melatiah saw him nod and laid her head against his chest, giving a big sigh. 'I like it when you look after me. It makes me feel all…I do not know. It is like I am eating ice-cream and soup all at the same time.'

He lifted her chin to give her a kiss. 'I know exactly what you mean. Come on.'

They went into his room, turning their backs on each other so that they could get undressed and put on their night things. Harry wasn't even tempted to peek, because he knew it wouldn't be right. That could come later, when they were more used to each other. He got into bed first, holding the blankets up so that she could slide in beside him. They snuggled down, facing each other and with a smile on their lips .

'This is nice' said Melatiah. 'I feel all warm and comfortable and I do not think I will have a dream.'

Harry wasn't that pure of spirit. 'Perhaps I should hug you, just to make certain' he suggested, reaching his arms towards her.

She slid readily towards him and their lips met. Harry was quite happy with that for a while, but then his hands started to move over her. He ran his fingers slowly down her spine, feeling the dips and peaks of her backbone under his fingertips. He'd never realised they were so sensitive, but remembered a lesson at his first school when they were told that blind people could "read" with their fingers using something called Braille. He asked himself why he remembered that now, of all times, but couldn't some up with an answer. He almost giggled when he wondered what her back said.

The giggle soon stopped when his hand reached her behind. It was smooth and rounded and fitted his hand. It felt good when he squeezed it, so he did it a few times. Melatiah seemed to like it as well, and pressed against him, her breath coming slightly faster into his mouth.

Harry's hand moved lower, to the bottom of her nightdress, and he slid underneath it. Her hands were moving over him, too, and they were starting to get a bit tangled up.

'Shall we take these ridiculous things off?' he asked her, desperately hoping she would say yes. She did, pulling her nightie over her head and dropping it on the floor behind her. His pyjamas soon joined them and her reached for her once more. Their bodies touching sent a jolt through both of them. Skin against skin was far more sensitive than material against material.

Even if they had wanted too, they could not have stopped now. Their bodies took on a life of their own and their hands moved over each other faster and faster; touching, probing, squeezing.. Their mouths moved, too, and they were not just kissing each other's lips, but faces and necks and hair. Harry ducked his head down to her breast and taking her nipple into his mouth began to gently suck. Their breathing became wild and erratic and all conscious thought was lost.

Harry rolled Melatiah onto her back and moved himself over her. They stayed like that for the briefest of moments, Harry fighting to remain in control. He almost didn't make it and had to take a few deep breaths. Then Melatiah's legs moved apart and he found himself exploring. He found what we wanted almost by accident and she gave a squeak as he entered her.

Then, before they knew what they were doing, they were moving against each other faster and faster, a whirlwind of arms and legs and mouths and hands. Nothing was planned, this was pure animal instinct.

Harry lost all sense of everything apart from the overpowering feeling spreading out from his groin to every part of his body - except one. Now it was too late to do anything he heard a tiny little voice in his head, which sounded very like Hermione, saying "Charm?". It made no difference now; it could have been Voldemort talking to him and it wouldn't have distracted him. He felt every muscle in his body tense at the same time and he called out Melatiah's name.

Then it was over and he collapsed on top of her. He was hot and his skin felt damp, yet his mouth was very dry. Everything seemed to relax at once and he could do no more than lay there, trying to get his breath back. He felt…drained, yet wonderful, the best he had ever felt in his life. If he were to produce a patronus now it could probably take on the whole world.

'You are heavy, Harry.'

He rolled to one side, keeping his arms around Melatiah. He never wanted to let her go again. 'Is that better?'

She gave a little sigh and snuggled against him. 'Yes. That was very nice, wasn't it? I have never feeled like that before.'

He laughed, rather exhaustedly. 'Nor have I. Ever.'

'I think we should do it again.'

'Maybe tomorrow, yes? I feel really tired all of a sudden.'

'Me, too. Alright; tomorrow, then. Good night, my Harry.'

He gave her a very gentle kiss on the end of her nose. 'Goodnight, my Melatiah.' Just before he fell asleep he had the feeling there was something he should have done earlier, but it probably didn't matter.

-o0o-

He was in the same room as before, with the torches burning yellow against the wall. Two people cowered before him, their heads bowed. The light reflected of their hair; one yellow, the other so light it was almost white.

'He failed me once again and is now incarcerated in Azkaban. When I need all my most able, he is not here.' There was a pause, and then a question asked in such a calm way the menace was obvious. 'How can I replace him?'

The one with the white hair looked up. His face was scared, but determined. 'I can replace him, my Lord.'

'No! Draco…' The other person had spoken. She, for it was a she, was possibly pretty once but now her face was wracked by fear.

'Quiet, Mother. I shall replace my father at your side, my Lord.'

The laugh was high and cruel. 'But you are no more than a boy! You cannot be of use to me.'

'Test me, and let me prove my worth. I will be there, inside. I can help you.'

'Very well, I shall test you. But if I find you wanting there will be no mercy. Pull up your sleeve.'

The woman threw herself in front of the boy. 'No, Lord, I beg you! How can you do this? He is just a child!'

A flash of light threw the woman backwards onto the floor. 'Never question me again. Next time I shall not be so lenient. Boy, hold out your arm; I shall mark you now.'

As the wand touched bare flesh the pain was palpable, even to the observer.

'NO!!!!!!!'

-o0o-

Harry didn't quite like the way Hermione plonked herself down next to him the next morning. He was on his own and she had that look in her eye.

'So, what was all the noise about last night?' Harry looked away guiltily, and she sighed. 'I meant the second one. But whilst we're on the subject, you were sensible. Weren't you?'

'Of course I was.'

'Oh Harry!' Hermione threw her hands in the air. 'I told you what you had to do! I told you! You can't just hope for this best, this is your resp…'

'Hang on! What makes you think…'

'That you're lying to me? Your lips are moving.'

Harry held his hands up. 'OK, OK. I got a bit carried away. It won't happen again. I'll be sensible.'

'Well let's just hope you got away with it.' That stopped him in his tracks. 'Yes, you might be lucky. I'll talk to her. We'll have to keep an eye on what happens.' She shook her head and glared at him. 'Anyway…'

At that point Melatiah came into the room. She smiled at Hermione and sat herself on Harry's lap, giving him a big kiss. There was a muttered 'Oh, get a room'.

'Anyway, what happened - afterwards?'

Harry shook his head. 'It was just a stupid dream. Honestly Hermione, trust me on this one, it wasn't a vision. Voldemort made Draco Malfoy a Death Eater! I mean!' He shook his head in an exasperated way and gave her a wry smile.

'Is that the boy?' asked Melatiah. 'His Mummy looked very scared, didn't she? But I do not like the man who was talking. He was nasty to the Mummy and boys should not hit girls, should they?'

Hermione stared at Harry and he stared right back at her. Both their mouths were hanging open. It felt like years passed before Hermione spoke. 'So not a vision, then? We have to talk to Professor Dumbledore.'


	15. Chapter 15

'Hermione, what IS your problem? Why can't you ever let things rest?'

Hermione sat back in surprise at the tone in Harry's words. 'I don't think I'm the one who has a problem here.'

'I don't believe you. You've never taken to her, have you? Always butting in, telling me what I should be doing, poking your nose in where it isn't wanted…'

'No, Harry…'

'You're jealous, that's what it is! I've chosen her. Face it, for once in your life you've come second. Come on, Melatiah, let's go somewhere we can be alone.'

Hermione sat on the sofa, just letting the tears run down her face. Harry's words had cut her more deeply than he could ever know. The worst thing was that one thing he'd said was true, though not in the way he'd meant it. She was jealous. She was jealous that Harry and Melatiah had found love and were happy together.

In just a few short days they had gone from meeting to being deeply in love, in love enough to share a bed, to share each other. She had heard them last night, had heard the passion and the need in their voices and the cry of release as they had found each other.

It had been like a knife to her heart. What did she have? Ron. Ron cared about her, she knew that, but did he love her? Could he ever love her like that and make her cry out and forget everyone else in the world? Probably not. She was certain they would get together eventually, and probably marry and spend the rest of their lives together. They would be happy, probably, and have children they would love, but he would never make her forget her name, forget who she was.

She sat up and quickly wiped her eyes as she heard the door open. It was Ron. He looked at her for a moment.

'You alright? You look a bit upset.'

She gave an unconvincing smile, but knew it would fool him. 'Fine!'

He nodded. 'Where are Harry and Melatiah?'

'Gone out, I think.'

'Oh.' He gave a rather dirty laugh. 'Surprised he's got the energy! Did you hear them last night?'

'What do you mean?' She tried to sound innocent; this was not a conversation she wanted to have.

'You didn't hear them? They were banging away like an outhouse door in a gale!' He shook his head in disbelief. 'Luck sod's got all that money AND he's getting his end away.'

Hermione stood and glared. 'I don't think it is luck, Ron. Maybe he's just got the intelligence to see what's staring him in the face. You, on the other hand, couldn't bang your thumb with a hammer.' She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Ron scratched at his head, absentmindedly. 'I can see things' he said to himself. 'I knew she was upset when I walked in here. What's a hammer?' He shrugged. She'd calm down, eventually.

Ron wasn't quite sure what to do about Hermione. He'd been in love with her for quite a while now. It had hurt him when she'd gone to the ball with that Krum, instead of him. Fine, he hadn't actually asked her, but that wasn't the point. She should have known.

'I mean, who else is there? We always hang round together and do things. We went to Hogsmeade together, that time, and it was great. She knows we're like …like what?'

That was Ron's problem. What were he and Hermione? Friends, or more? He'd sort of thought, quite a few times, about asking her to go out with him, but that just seemed a bit daft. They already were, weren't they? They spent more time together than anybody, and she'd been at his house for most of the summer before they'd come here. That had been good fun, and they'd sat in the garden and he'd even taken her for a ride on his broom. Getting to the next stage was the problem.

After that broom ride he tried holding her hand as they walked back to the house, but she'd given him a funny look so he let go again. She was too good with a wand, that was his worry. He wasn't even sure if she had any feelings for him, beyond being a friend. Maybe she wasn't interested in him that way. Was she interested in anybody? Hermione was so into her books and getting top marks in everything that he couldn't imagine her ever…not like Melatiah had sounded.

Ron had only ever heard Hermione screaming when she was upset at something. The idea of her…and him…in bed…writhing…her naked…and calling out his name.

Then, obviously, there was the competition. That's what it came down to; who would she chose? Harry, his best mate, the one with the money and titles and the Quidditch seeker and just possibly the saviour of the Wizarding world. Or Ron with…the things he had. It would be Harry. One thing Hermione wasn't was stupid. Nobody would chose Ron over Harry. The only good thing about Melatiah, apart from the fact she could give him a game at chess, was that she might just take his rival out of the competition. Maybe he should start being nicer to her, pointing out what a great guy Harry was. That was starting to sound like a plan.

-o0o-

'Harry, what is the matter? You are not very happy today.'

Harry slowed his walk. He'd just wanted to get away from the house, from Hermione, from everything. Nothing ever went his way in life. He could never be just a boy. Even something as simple as falling in love had to be complicated, Why did Hermione have to keep going on at him all the time? Was it really that she was jealous? Never once in five years had she indicated that there was anything between them, not once. She was like a sister to him; maybe not a sister. She was a friend, nothing more. He'd never done anything to encourage her.

'Harry?'

'I'm sorry, Melatiah. I got upset.'

'With me?'

He hugged her to him. 'No. No, never with you. With Hermione.'

'Why did you shout at her? Is she cross with me because I do not sleep in my room like a good girl?'

Harry shook his head. 'She thinks too much, that's all. You had a nasty dream last night and she sees all sorts of omens in it.' He didn't sound convincing, even to himself. 'I just want us to be left alone, so we can be happy.'

'I would like that too, Harry. I have a good idea. Shall I tell it to you?'

He smiled. 'Go on then, what's your idea?'

'We can run away. We can put some clothes in a bag, and some money and food and we can run away.'

'What would we do then?' The idea was starting to appeal to him; just the two of them, no pressure.

'We can find a desert island and live there all by ourselves, and if the pirates come you can chase them away with your wand!'

He laughed, even as he shook his head. 'Oh. Melatiah. I don't think people do that anymore. I think all the desert islands have been found and people already live on them.' He sighed, and looked away from her. 'Anyway, I can't go. I have to stay.'

'Why?'

'Let's find somewhere to have a milkshake, and I'll tell you. I suppose I should.'

They settled themselves in a local fast food outlet and Melatiah was happy to spend a few moments slurping on her drink. She'd got quite a taste for milkshakes and ice-creams, things she'd never had before.

'So, why can we not run away?'

'You've heard us talking about,' he glanced around the room to make sure they could not be overheard, 'Voldemort, yes?'

Melatiah nodded. 'He is the nasty man who killed our mummies and daddies. I do not like him.'

'That's the one. The thing is, there's this prophecy…' he could see Melatiah looking blank. 'It's like a, I don't know. It's like somebody has seen the future and what they saw was that I will have to fight Voldemort, one day.'

'And then we can run away? Let us go and find him now.' She made to stand up.

'It isn't that simple. This prophecy says that only one of us is going to live, afterwards. Either I will kill him or he will kill me.'

Melatiah looked down at her drink; suddenly it didn't seem as nice. 'But you will win, Harry. You are strong and clever and you have a wand.'

'So does he. I'm sorry; I should have told you all this a long time ago. If anything happens to me then you will be all alone again. I shouldn't have…we shouldn't…'

'I want to help you. He is a nasty man and I want to help you so we can be happy.'

Harry smiled and put his hand over hers. 'When the fight comes I want you to be safe; a long, long way away so you can't be hurt. I don't want you to ever see him again.'

She looked up. 'I have never seed him.'

'You see him in your dreams…'

'I do not see him when I have a dream. I think he must stand behind me. I have tried to turn around so I can see him but he is not there.' Then she gave him a mischievous grin and took another drink. 'Sometimes, after I have stopped being frightened, I sometimes think it is me doing the things in the dream. That would make me a very naughty girl!'

Harry tried to smile, but couldn't. He known, of course. He'd always know. Once again Hermione was right and it was not a dream Melatiah was having, nor was Harry waking her up and scaring her. She was seeing the things he was seeing, and from exactly the same viewpoint.

But why? He knew that he had a connection with Voldemort, through his scar. Surviving death when he was a child, through his mother's love, had left him with a connection to Voldemort that he had known about for years, and Dumbledore had explained again after Sirius had died.

He looked at Melatiah. She had not been marked, though. Voldemort had killed her parents with the same ease he had killed Cedric Diggory; because they were of no use to him. Melatiah had been hidden under a coat; he had not tried to kill her; she had not survived him. She had no scar. Then why? Why could she see, and Harry could no longer deny it, the same as him?

He didn't know. There were probably only two people who did. 'Finish your drink, Melatiah; we have to go.'

'Why?'

'I need to talk to Hermione.'

Melatiah pursed her lips. 'Are you going to say that you are sorry for shouting at her?'

'Well...'

She gave him a severe look. It was the first time he had ever seen her trying to be a grown up, and it was so sweet. 'Harry?'

He sighed. 'Yes, alright. I'll say I'm sorry.'

Melatiah smiled and leaned across the table to give him a kiss. 'Good boy!'


	16. Chapter 16

They got back to the house to find Ron sat in the living room, flicking through "The Daily Prophet". Harry tried to appear brisk, and as normal as possible. 'Hi! Where's Hermione?'

Ron shrugged. 'In her room, I think. She doesn't seem very happy.'

'Yeah, I think I might have upset her this morning. I'd better…' He indicated the door. 'Melatiah, why don't you give Ron a game of chess?'

'Shall I come with you?'

'No, it's alright. It might be better if I talk to her alone.'

'You remember what you have to say to her?'

'Yes' Harry sighed. 'I remember.'

'Go on, then.'

Harry slowly walked up the stairs, not relishing the encounter. In the past when they'd rowed, like when she'd had his broom confiscated, they not actually apologised to each other, just sort of shrugged and got on with life. Harry felt this might be different. He paused in front of her bedroom door before knocking. Maybe he should wait a bit? No, that wouldn't do; Melatiah would never allow it. He knocked, but there was no reply. He turned away, then stopped. He would do this. He knocked, louder.

'I'm coming in whether you say anything or not.' Silence. He opened the door.

Hermione was sat on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest and hugging a pillow. She was reading, of course, but through eyes that were red and puffy. Harry could still see tear tracks down her cheeks, which didn't make him feel any better. He crossed to the bed and sat down. Hermione ignored him.

'What are you reading?' She didn't answer but held the book up so he see the title. He assumed it was an Arithmancy book, but that was the only word he could recognise. 'I've already read it. The ending's rubbish; the butler did it.'

Hermione gave a half smile, despite herself, and wiped her fingers under her eyes.

'Hermione, I'm…sorry.'

She put her book down and considered him for a moment. 'What for, specifically?' That was a mean trick. She was meant to say "That's OK", not put him on the spot. Her voice was very calm and controlled, too, which was worrying. Harry preferred it when she was screaming; at least you knew where you stood.

'Well…for…'

'Calling me a sad, pathetic, jealous little cow who was always…How did you put it?….poking my nose in where it wasn't wanted?'

'Well…'

'Like helping you practise spells for the Tri-Wizard tournament?'

'I…'

'And helping you revise for every year-end exam you've ever taken? Or climbing on a bloody Hippogriff even though I didn't like heights or flying? Or any other time I've helped you over the past five years?'

Harry could see the colour rising in her face. It wasn't a good sign.

'YES! Yes, for all of that! Please, Hermione… Just let me say I'm sorry, will you? I'm trying. I'm here, aren't I?'

She seemed to deflate like a burst balloon and sunk back onto her bed, hiding her face behind her hands. Harry could hear the sniffling as she tried to stop herself crying again. He put his hand on her arm.

'Yes, I'm sorry for all of that' he said gently. 'Please?'

Hermione sat back up and put her arms around him, burying her head in his chest. Harry wrapped her in his arms and gave her a hug.

'I am sorry. I got a bit over-protective this morning, that's all. Melatiah's…she's so young and innocent and I can't let anyone hurt her. I'm worried about her, about what's happening to her. And…I think you might be right.'

The sniffling stopped rather abruptly. 'What do you mean, you think I'm right?'

Harry sighed. 'Fine. You're always right.' He stuck his tongue out at her. 'Happy?' She gave him a sad little smile.

'I didn't mean it like that. What do you mean I'm right about Melatiah?'

'I don't think she is having dreams. You can say "I told you so", if you want.'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, I won't say that. Harry, I'm sorry.'

He got up and started walking around the room. 'I can't understand it though. I know I've got a link to Voldemort, but she hasn't. Mine's through my scar, when he attacked me, but she hasn't got one. He didn't even know she was in the room. How?' he turned to face her. 'How can that be?'

'I don't know.'

'But, you said…'

'I said she wasn't just having dreams. There's a link there but I don't know, not for certain anyway. I've got a suspicion, but it doesn't sound right. That's why we have to tell Professor Dumbledore.'

'Can he sort it out?'

Hermione wouldn't look at him. 'I don't know; not for certain. But he still has to know.'

Harry nodded. 'Fine. Shall we send him a letter?'

'No. I think we should go to Hogwarts. Alone.'

'But if he needs to treat her…or would he send her to St Mungo's?'

Hermione started picking at her nails. 'Let's talk to him first, eh?'

-o0o-

They travelled up to Hogwarts by floo, Hermione having spoken to Dumbledore and told him they had some more information on Melatiah. He told them to come up as soon as they could. Then they'd had the problem of how to get away. Melatiah had been easy enough because she was used to doing as she was told, and Harry had explained that she couldn't travel by floo because she wasn't magical.

Ron was more problematical. For a start they normally did everything as a group, and didn't see why he needed to be left behind. His thoughts from this morning's encounter with Hermione didn't help either. A tiny part of his brain did wonder why they were sneaking off alone. Were they really going to Hogwarts, and where would they sleep if they had to spend the night there? Maybe Harry had got the taste for...no, that way lay madness. Grudgingly he consented to stay behind, but both Harry and Hermione clearly heard him mutter 'I be the bloody babysitter' as they turned towards the fireplace.

Dumbledore was all smiles as he greeted them in his office, showing them to chairs and even making tea. He served it with a plate of ginger newts. Hermione refused them but Harry took a handful.

'So,' Dumbledore enquired, 'what is your big news?'

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. It didn't seem quite so logical, or obvious, sat in front of the Headmaster.

'You're better at this than I am' Harry said.

'You know her better than me' Hermione countered.

Harry wondered if that was a barbed comment, but decided to ignore it. 'Well, Professor, the thing is that…you see...we were…sort of…'

'Ugh, you're right Harry! I am better at this than you! Let me do the talking.' She turned to Dumbledore and took a deep breath. 'Professor, Melatiah has had a few, what we thought were dreams since she's been with us.'

Dumbledore nodded, gravely. 'You "thought" they were dreams? And what is your opinion now?'

'We've come to the conclusion they're visions; the same as Harry has.'

'And what made you come to that conclusion?'

'As you said, some things are too big a co-incidence to be so. She has her dreams when Harry sees things and…'

'Go on, Miss Granger.'

'They're seeing the same thing.'

Dumbledore stroked his beard for a few moments before looking at Harry. 'You think he is using l_egilimency _on her, as he has on you?'

'Not quite, Professor. It isn't like he's putting ideas into our heads; it's more like we're there.'

'How do you mean?'

'I was talking to Melatiah about Voldemort and I said he is the man she sees in her dreams. She said that she's never seen him; it's more like he's standing behind her.'

'I see.' Dumbledore stood and began walking around his office, straightening some things and adjusting others. 'Is there anything else?'

'Umm…I think…I'm not sure...but she may be a parcel tongue.'

Dumbledore's eye shot to Harry. 'Why would you think that?' Harry got very nervous at the look on Dumbledore's face, and he became tongue tied. Hermione stepped in.

'Is this what happed at the zoo, Harry?' He nodded, reluctantly. Hermione looked confused. 'I thought I hadn't understood what she said. She can't be.'

'What did she say, Harry?' Dumbledore's voice was very grave. 'Tell me exactly what happened.'

Harry recounted the incident when he was talking to the Boa at the zoo, who has asked him if Melatiah was his girlfriend. Harry said that he'd assumed - or persuaded himself - that Melatiah had simply picked up on the tone of the conversation.

Dumbledore looked at Hermione. 'What did she say to you, Miss Granger?'

'Pretty much what Harry's just told you; that the snake asked if she was his girlfriend and that she told Harry to say yes. I assumed he'd told her what they were talking about, though,; not that she'd understood it.'

'But now you think she understood what was being said?' Harry nodded. Dumbledore sat back at his desk, closing his eyes, putting his hands together and his fingers to his lips. Hermione had the strange feeling he was praying. With his eyes still closed he said, 'Miss Granger? What is your opinion?'

'I'm..not sure, Professor.'

'But you have an hypothesis.' It was not a question.

'Yes. I read the book you loaned me; _Secrets of the Darkest Art'_

Dumbledore sounded endlessly weary when he spoke. 'I believe you are right, Miss Granger.'

It was Harry who broke the silence that followed. 'Is somebody going to tell me what's going on? I know that isn't usually par for the course, but...as she is my girlfriend…'

Hermione bit her lip, and put her hands to her mouth. Harry could see she was close to tears again. What was wrong with her today?

'Oh, Harry. I'm so, so sorry.' She had to force herself to speak. Harry was her friend; this was her job. 'Melatiah…she's a horocrux.'


	17. Chapter 17

Harry shook his head. 'A what?'

Hermione ran her hand under her nose. Harry realised she must be really upset to do that in front of him. Normally just a sniff was enough to send her diving for a handkerchief and he felt suddenly worried.

'A horocrux. It's really Dark Magic, probably the worst there is.'

Harry laughed, rather hollowly. 'Oh, good one! Hermione, do you know how worried you got me? That wasn't a very funny joke.'

'It was not a joke, Harry. Far, far from it. I can assure you Miss Granger is strictly earnest in what she says.'

Harry shook his head to clear it. What was going on? Hermione pulling a stupid prank in front of the headmaster was one thing, but him joining in…They weren't being serious; they couldn't be for one very obvious reason.

'But Melatiah isn't even magical! She can't be a Dark Wizard. I don't know what you two are playing at but this has gone far enough.' He made to stand up.

'Harry, sit down.' Dumbledore had never really given him a direct order before, not in that tone. He sat. 'It matters not that Melatiah is a Muggle. Her condition confirms something that I have suspected for some time; that Voldemort has been creating horocruxes.'

Hermione gasped. 'More than one? But that's unheard of.'

'Will somebody please tell me what the hell's happening! I'm sat here listening to you two chatting away to each other and I haven't got a clue what you're talking about. WHAT'S A BLOODY HOROCRUX?'

Dumbledore took a deep breath. 'A horocrux is something a wizard uses as a repository for part of his soul, Harry. If the wizard is skilled enough, and knows the correct incantations he can split his soul in two - theoretically more - and place the piece in an object or a person.'

'But why would you want to do that? Assuming the soul exists in the first place. Aunt Petunia used to go on about things like that when she came back from Church, all about saving your mortal soul.'

'It exists, Harry.'

Dumbledore spoke with such conviction that Harry had no reason to doubt him. 'But why do it?'

He knew Hermione had the answer to this for, despite the situation they were in, he could see her itching to tell him. He was surprised she hadn't put her hand up. He turned to her.

'According to most religions in the world, what happens when you die?' she asked simply.

Harry shrugged, having to think back to lessons long ago. 'Well, your soul, sort of, goes to heaven, or something.'

'That's right. You die because it is time for your soul to move on.'

'Hang on, Hermione! "Allotted span" and "when your number's up"? Surely you don't believe in all that?'

She shook her head. 'No, it's not like your time to die is written in a book, or anything. Your soul moves on because your body can no longer provide for it. It could be age, or disease, or an accident but there is a time when it can no longer remain in your body, so it leaves and you die.'

'OK' he said warily.

'So, what if you could stop your soul from moving on?'

Harry had to think about that one. 'Make it stay? Then you wouldn't die.'

He didn't sound convincing, even to himself, but Hermione nodded. 'Immortality.'

'But how can you force it to stay, and what does it have to do with Melatiah?'

'You make it stay by creating a horocrux' said Dumbledore, simply. 'You place a part of your soul into something else; a receptacle.'

'She's got a part of Voldemort's soul inside her?' Melatiah, so sweet, so innocent, another victim. How could Harry bring himself to tell her? How could she understand what was happening to her? He sunk into his own world, a world where he wanted only to be happy, with her.

Hermione spoke. 'There is something I don't understand, Professor. How did he create it? She can remember the events of that night quite clearly, even down to what was said. She never told us about the incantation.'

'I believe, Miss Granger, that by this time Voldemort's soul was so unstable it could happen without his knowledge. The act of murdering Melatiah's parents was enough to split off one small fragment, which searched for a home. What better place than a young innocent child?'

Harry broke his reverie. 'So how do we get it out of her?'

Hermione put her hand on his arm. 'You can't,' she whispered.

'So she's stuck with it for the rest of her life, or until Voldemort is killed?'

Dumbledore regarded him solemnly. 'Harry, have you not been listening? Voldemort cannot die whilst a piece of his soul remains behind.'

'So we're stuck.'

'No, Harry, we're not.' Hermione's' eyes were bright with tears again. 'The part that's in her has to be destroyed.'

Harry was wary. 'But you said we can't get it out of her.'

'That's right. We have to…' She couldn't bring herself to continue, and looked away.

Dumbledore came round to join them, and put his arm around Harry's shoulder. He, too, appeared close to crying.

'The only way is to destroy the fragment is to destroy the vessel.'

Harry's brain refused to accept the obvious conclusion of what he'd just heard. Melatiah was the vessel, the vessel had to be destroyed, that must mean…'NO!' he pulled himself away, taking refuge in the far corner of the room.

'You're mad! Both of you! Or is this a plot? You're trying something here, something to get me to agree to….You've got something planned, to get me out of the way.'

'Harry, no!' Hermione was holding out her arms to him. 'We have to do this.'

'You want to kill her! You want me to agree to murder!'

She shook her head. 'No, not murder.' A shocked looked crossed her face as she remembered. 'The Queen's Gambit.'

'What?'

Even Dumbledore looked stunned at Hermione's understanding. He suddenly found himself scared of her, of her comprehension.

'It's a chess tactic Ron taught me. Sometime you have to sacrifice a piece in order to win.'

'This isn't a game, Hermione. This is a real person, the girl I love!'

'No', Dumbledore recovered himself. 'This is not a game, Harry. This is deadly serious. Voldemort has killed again and again. His forces stand poised to overwhelm our world, and thousands more will die unless he is stopped. We must destroy every horocrux he has created to render him mortal so that he can be destroyed. Miss Granger is correct. As terrible as it sounds, Melatiah must be our gambit.'

'You can't do that, we can't do it. We're fighting Voldemort to get rid of him, to make a better world. We don't kill to achieve our aims; that's what the other side do.'

Dumbledore stood and walked towards Harry, putting his hand on his shoulder. 'You are correct, in part. We are fighting to make a better world, and all those who have died did so for that purpose. Can their sacrifice be in vain? Can Voldemort be allowed to rule for eternity?'

Harry didn't know how to answer; his mind had shut down rather than contemplate the choices that lay before him. Dumbledore turned to Hermione.

'The Gryffindor common room is open; I suggest you take him there.' She nodded, and Dumbledore continued in a quieter tone. 'You, Miss Granger, can you cope with this? I can ask Professor McGonagall to accompany you.'

Hermione shook her head. 'This is my world, mine and all the other muggleborn children. Petunia was right; we can't just go back. This is about our survival.'

She took Harry's hand and led him from the room. He followed like a child.

-o0o-

In the Common Room Hermione led Harry to one of the sofas and sat down next to him. He stared blankly ahead.

'Harry?'

There was no reply. She put her arm around him and pulled his head down onto her shoulder, stroking his hair, and they just sat there for a while. The room looked the same as it always did, with the mismatched furniture and overstuffed armchairs, but it felt empty. Not just empty of people and the usual detritus of term-time, but empty of spirit, as if it realised what was happening and could not cope with discussion it knew must come. The sun lit the room, but did not warm it. The pictures on the walls were strangely still, trying to appear as if they were not listening in. A few of the subjects had left their frames. Home no longer felt like home.

Everything would change with the decision Hermione knew they must come to. The future would never be the same as the past, now. She had always known they would have to fight Voldemort and it would be a fight to the death, but she had assumed those deaths would come in the heat of battle. This would be the execution of a friend to her and lover to her best friend; not war as a brave adventure or upholding ideals come what may. They were going to make a human sacrifice.

'Harry?'

She felt him stir against her and sit up. With a low groan he fell forward, putting his face in his hands.

'Harry?'

'There's nothing we can do, is there?' The hopelessness of his voice cut her to the quick.

Of all the people in the world for this to happen to, it had to be him. Whether you thought of him as The Chosen One, or just Harry, it felt as if fate had marked him from birth. Never could he have the life others had, an ordinary life. Time and time again he was smashed into the ground by waves of misfortune and one day, she knew, he would not be able to get up again.

She had no answer to his question, so she put her arms around him and hugged him to her once more. She wanted him to cry, to rage against his lot, but he just lay there. That was the worst part. He knew what must be done.

They sat until the light started to fade. Only then, when he knew she could not see his face, did he speak.

'How does it have to be done?'

'It has to be really powerful magic.'

'You mean like Av..Av…'

'I'm not sure. The only ones I've read about are…' Her face crumpled and she hid it in Harry's hair, trying to keep her sobbing under control, but it was impossible.

Harry put his arms around her and held her tight. 'I know, I know. Tell me what I have to do. Please?'

'It has to be something that magic can't repair' she whispered, sounding scared of her own voice. 'Basilik venom or fiendfyre...'

'No! Not that. I can't do that to…'

Once more the tears started and they clung to each other, knowing that each breath took them closer to what must be done.

'The professor won't expect you to…you can't.'

'It has to be me, don't you see that? She knows me and she…she loves me. I'll tell her…'

'No!'

'I must. She has to know why this is happening; I can't just betray her and she'll know…she'll know that the heart that loves her can never betray her. It has to be me.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'Tomorrow. I'll do it tomorrow. I'll get what I need and then I'll go. You can stay behind here, until…'

'No. I said I'd stick with you, come what may.'

'Tomorrow, then.'

They spent all night in the common room, holding each other, in the same way that kights of old kept vigil before a battle. Sleep would have been impossible, so they did not try. They sat and drew comfort and strength from each other, and prepared themselves for what must come with the dawn.

Tomorrow Melatiah would have to die so that other might live.


	18. Chapter 18

At dawn Harry, lone, had opened the Chamber of Secrets and retrieved a Basilik fang before they both returned to Grimmauld Place. Given the limited options they knew about it was the only solution. He could not use fiendfyre. Deep within his cultural memory was a fear of death by burning. That was a punishment for traitors and…witches, and she was not an evildoer.

Hermione found Ron and Mrs Weasley and told them they had to leave because there was a job she and Harry needed to do for Dumbledore and they had to be alone to do it. Melatiah could stay because she was not magical and could not affect the outcome.

Molly Weasley would not countermand a direct order form Dumbledore and acquiesced, saying that she needed to go shopping anyway, though she was not happy and determined to have words with him later. What job could they do that needed her out of the way? Sometimes, she thought, he put too much on them; they were only children, after all. Ron had objected, wanting to know why he could not be part of the team as he always had been in the past. Hermione had tried to persuade him to leave, but nothing would work. Eventually she knew her only way was to hurt him so badly that he would go of his own volition.

'Ron, you just can't stay. Dumbledore doesn't want you to…'

'But why? Just tell me why.'

'Because you're not good enough! OK? Are you happy now you know the real reason?' She felt terrible as she saw his face turn ashen and his shoulders drop.

'I'm not…he said that?'

She tried to put her hand on his arm; it destroyed her to do this to him but she had to get him out of the way, to protect him. Her love for him, and she realised now just how strong that love was, could not let him see what they must do. He pulled away from her.

'Do you think that too, Hermione? Do you think…'

'Please, just go.'

He turned towards the door. 'Yeah, I'll go. I'll get out of your way so the capable people can get on with doing the real work.'

'Ron.'

He looked back at her. 'I always knew it would happen, eventually. I knew we could never…not you and me. It just wouldn't work, would it? Goodbye, Hermione.'

She sunk into a chair as he shut the door, already exhausted by her emotions yet realising worse was to come. Harry quietly opened the door and joined her.

'I heard. I'm sorry.'

She shook her head. 'No, that was nothing compared to…where's…where is she?'

'Upstairs.'

'You don't have to do this. We can…'

'I have to.'

'Then I'll come with you.'

Hand in hand they climbed the stairs to Melatiah's room and stood facing the door.

-o0o-

'Harry! I am so glad to see you again!' Melatiah hurled herself across the room, throwing her arms around him and kissing him all over his face. 'I was very sad not to sleep in your arms last night and I was scared that I would have a nasty dream again. But now you are back and we can all be happy again!'

He didn't hug her and she noticed the change in him.

'What is it, Harry? Have I been naughty?'

'No, of course you haven't but there is something I have to tell you.'

She looked confused, and a little worried. 'What is it, Harry?'

'We've found out something about you. The man, Voldemort, who killed your parents. When he did that, he did something to you, as well.'

'But he did not know I was in the room. I have telled you, I was under a coat.'

'I know that. He did it to you by accident. He put a part of himself inside you. That is why you have your nasty dreams.'

She obviously couldn't understand what Harry was talking about. 'How can I have a part of somebody else inside me?' Then she looked very mischievous and giggled. 'Well, apart from when…'

'Please. Melatiah.' Harry held his hands up. 'This is very serious and you have to be a big girl.'

Melatiah looked contrite. 'I am sorry.'

'This part that is inside you, it could be dangerous.'

'Will it hurt me?'

'Yes, it could do, and other people.'

'Then must I go to the hospital and have it tooken out?' She stood very upright. 'I will be brave.'

'No. You can't have it taken out at the hospital. I have to make it…go away.'

For the first time a shadow of fear crossed her face. 'How can you make it go away?'

'I…' he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to finish the job.

'Harry has to give you something like an injection, Melatiah.' Hermione tried to keep her voice calm and light so as not to frighten the girl. 'Just close your eyes and…'

'No! I'm sorry Hermione. I can't lie to her.' Harry hugged Melatiah to him. 'She has to know the truth, and why I am doing this. I must be honest.' He took Melatiah over to the bed and sat her on his lap.

'The part that is in you is very bad. It is bad for you, and for everyone else. To save everyone, so that no other children have to lose their parents, Voldemort has to die. To do that then you…I have to make the part in you die as well.'

'Die like my mummy and daddy did?'

'Yes.'

Melatiah started to cry as she realised what Harry had said. 'You are going to make me die like my mummy and daddy.'

'I'm sorry.'

'But you say that you love me and we will be together.'

'We will be, my Melatiah. When I have killed Voldemort I will join you and we will be together for all the time that is left, but I have to do this so that we can all be free.'

She shook her head. 'No, Harry. I do not want to be died. I want to stay here with you.' She stood and backed away from him, shaking. He walked towards her, taking the Basilik fang out from his jacket. 'I have to do this, Melatiah.'

'No, Harry, you do not have to do this. You have a choice.' Melatiah held out her hand. _'Join me.'_

'What?' he stopped, confused.

'_Join me, Harry. Together we can be greater than all of them. You want that, don't you? To be great, to have me at your side?'_

Melatiah grew as he looked at her, and not just in height. Her body filled until her T-shirt strained against her flesh. She reached up and ripped the shirt from neck to hem, allowing her breasts to spill out; large full breasts that held Harry hypnotised.

'_You can have this, Harry, forever. Turn your back on them and join me.'_

'Harry!' Hermione screamed out, 'Don't listen! That isn't Melatiah; it's the horocrux defending itself. Do it! Do it now!'

'_QUIET, GIRL!' _Melatiah/Voldemort stretched out its hand and a blast of energy threw Hermione back onto the bed. The voice became soft again, beguiling. _'She doesn't want you to find happiness, Harry. She wants you to do this to get rid of me, so she can have you for herself.' _She reached out her hand again. _'But you don't want her. Look at her.'_

Harry looked at Hermione and recoiled at the sight before him. She had aged a century. Her hair was grey and thin, her skin wrinkled. _'That is what she truly is.' _Melatiah's voice was silky now. _'Or would you rather have me?' _Her hand turned his face back towards her. Melatiah's eyes were wide and sparkling, her lips full and moist. _'You can have all this, for eternity.'_

'Harry! Please don't listen to her! It's Voldemort. It's the horocrux talking. Harry, please!'

Once more the hand reached out and with a flick Hermione was thrown across the room, slamming into the wall, her wand flying out of her hand. She slid to the floor and lay stunned.

'_You see how weak they are? Yet they conspire to use you. You're Dumbledore's little puppet doing his bidding. He'll sacrifice you, Harry, if you don't stop him. He knows already what you are, and so does she. They've not told __**you**__ though, have they? They know you're me already. That's why they want you to destroy me; to weaken yourself so they can use you.'_

Harry's mind was numb and empty. All he could see was Melatiah's body swaying gently in front of his, the vision of perfect womanhood; every man's desire. Her words coiled around his brain, drawing him towards her.

'_That's right, my Harry. Join me and we shall spend eternity in each other's arms. You want that, don't you? No more fear, no more fighting. Just the two of us together, making love under the stars in a world where we are the rulers.' _Melatiah held out her hand and Harry took a step towards her. _'Yes, my Harry. Come to me.'_

Hermione scrabbled for her wand. She had no plan of what to do except to break the horocrux's hold on Harry. She just need that second to get his attention. She desperately thrust her hand into a pile of clothing and her hand closed around a…she didn't know. It wasn't her wand; it felt more like a club but perhaps it would do. She could throw it. She pulled it towards her. It was heavier than she imagined, and longer. She could see light glinting off of it. It was metal. It was a sword.

She looked up. The gap between Harry and Melatiah was closing. He was walking towards her outstretched hands, eyes fixed on her gently swaying body.

'_Come to me. Come to me, my Harry. I am yours. You are mine.'_

Hermione gripped the sword handle in both hands and threw herself towards the vision. The blade pierced skin and slipped between ribs, cutting muscle and blood vessels before piercing the heart.

The horocrux screamed and billowed around the room as it fought to live, throwing both Harry and Hermione back with the force of it's pain . Then it gave a whimper as it realised it had been defeated and shrunk away to nothingness, leaving behind the shell it had occupied these past fifteen years. The small, slight body of a girl who had been unable to talk because of a promise to her long dead mother.

'Harry?' Her voice was small, and weak. He crawled across the floor towards her.

'I'm here, my Melatiah.'

'I am sorry, Harry. I have not been a good girl.'

He buried his face in her hair. 'You have always been a good girl. Your mummy and daddy would be very proud of you.'

'Why is it dark, Harry.'

'Because it is time to sleep, and you can sleep in peace because you will never have a nasty dream again.'

'Will you be here when I wake up?'

'Yes. You will sleep in my arms and when you wake I will be here with you for ever.'

'I am glad. We will be happy.'

Her eyes closed and her body slumped in his arms.

'Sleep now, my Melatiah. Sleep.'


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione crawled across the floor to Harry, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his hair. 'I had to. I'm sorry. It would have taken you. I'm sorry. I had to, but it's over.'

'Shhh, you'll wake her.' Then he shook his head. 'It will never be over. Not until he's dead..' His whispered voice was very calm, very controlled. He sounded too normal. 'Will you leave us alone for a while?'

Hermione stood and stroked his hair before leaving the room. She would have to tell Dumbledore what had happened. She was half way down the stairs before she heard the cry break from his throat, but kept walking. He needed his grief more than his friend.

Dumbledore was standing by the fireplace when she got through to him on the floo, as if he had been expecting her. He promised to come immediately and within a few seconds was standing in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

Hermione stood with her arms wrapped around herself. Now there was an adult here she suddenly felt very young, and scared. The enormity of what she had done struck home, and with it the consequences. The Ministry would have to be told, and there would be an inquest - then a trail. She would be accused of murder - maybe Azkaban…Dementors. She started shaking and found herself in Dumbledore's arms.

'I killed her. I used a…sword. I don't know where it came from, I just…and she was…she wasn't…'

'Hush, child. The horcrux did not give up without a fight.'

'How did you know?'

'It was the sword of Godric Gryffindor. It hangs in my study and disappeared about half an hour ago.'

'Gryffindor's sword?'

'Yes.' Dumbledore's voice was gentle and soothing. 'It will make itself available to any true Gryffindor in their time of most desperate need.'

'But it came to me.'

'Because you are, obviously, a true Gryffindor.'

'No.' Hermione couldn't see that. It gave her a problem, something intellectual she could cling to. 'The Sorting Hat, it said I could have been in Ravenclaw.'

'And a very fine Ravenclaw you would have made, Miss Granger. You would be a credit to any House.'

'So how can I be a true Gryffindor?'

'We all have limitless possibilities within ourselves. What defines us is the choices we make. You are brave and honourable and have great courage'

'How can I be honourable? I killed her. I killed Melatiah.' Hermione broke down in his arms. 'And I sent Ron away. I lied to him and hurt him so much he went away. He's left me. Petunia was right. What have I become?'

'Petunia Dursley was wrong. Courage sometimes means facing up to your friends, as well as your enemies. It is the courage to do what is right.'

'I've lost him.'

'I think not. I would imagine he is now at home, feeling rather sorry for himself. Perhaps you need each other at the moment.'

'But Harry…'

'I am here and you should put yourself first, this once.'

She nodded and moved towards the fireplace 'I'll go to him. I need to explain, anyway.'

'Miss Granger?' She turned back to him. 'I placed a terrible burden on you. I regret that I had to do it, but I shall not apologise. We are in dark times and I would not have done it if I did not have every confidence in you and your abilities. I am very proud of you.'

She bobbed her head before turning back to the floo. Maybe one day she could take comfort from his words.

-o0o-

Dumbledore climbed the stairs, following the sounds of Harry's pain. He pushed open the door. Harry was still holding Melatiah in his arms, but the sword had gone. It's work was over, on this occasion.

Harry looked up, his face wracked with grief and stained with tears. Then he buried his face in her hair again. Dumbledore knelt by his side and felt the girl's wrist for a pulse.

'Make her better.'

'I cannot, Harry.'

'Something? Please?'

'There is nothing. I cannot cheat nature. I'm sorry; I never meant this to happen.'

'You knew, didn't you?'

'No. I will not lie to you. I suspected there may be a secret hidden, but I did not know.'

'You suspected. You suspected and you used me. Again.' Harry gently laid Melatiah down before standing and facing Dumbledore. In a flash he had his wand out, holding it to the old man's throat. Dumbledore stood very still.

'You used me, and Hermione.'

'I sought the best people to…'

'DON'T GIVE ME YOUR CLEVER WORDS! You used us to get the information you wanted.'

'If you wish to see it that way.' Dumbledore kept his eyes on Harry's. His voice was remarkably calm, as if he were giving his opinion on lunch.

'You gave her a book. What was it? Why didn't you tell me about it? TELL ME!'

'Harry, there is no reason to shout. I will tell you everything you want to know.'

'Yes you will, this time!'

Dumbledore stared at Harry. 'Either use your wand, or put it away. You have no need to threaten me.'

Harry sensed the eyes burrowing into his head and suddenly felt like a foolish little boy. He dropped his arm and didn't quite know what to do with his wand. He just let it hang by his side.

'The book I gave her concerned horcruxes; what they were and how to make them. Miss Granger had told me that Melatiah had been having dreams, but she suspected they were not normal. Rather, they appeared to be similar to the ones you have.'

'So you let her work it out, knowing she'd tell you.'

'Yes. And, before you ask, I showed it to her because I knew she would tell me. I regret that I could not come to the same conclusion for you. You were already too involved, and I am deeply sorry about that. I never thought it would happen but I am an old man so have not known youthful love for a long time. I forget how powerful and instant it can be.'

Harry sat next to Melatiah again, stroking her hair, and letting new tears fall. 'You didn't trust me' he said, simply.

Dumbledore knelt next to him. 'I was in love, once; many years ago. I admit it clouded my judgement and I…allowed things to happen that should not have happened. I could not take the risk you would make the same mistake as I did. '

'But it didn't involve killing anyone, did it?'

Dumbledore was silent, and stayed that way until Harry spoke again.

'Why her?' He eventually asked.

'Because, Harry. Just because.'

'It's all so unfair. She'd just started to live again. She had everything in front of her.'

'That is the nature of evil; it does not distinguish. That is why we must fight it. This will be of no comfort to you, but we are one step closer to defeating Voldemort.'

'How many more innocents have to die? How many more times will we have to kill?'

'We have no option. Voldemort will not stop.'

'Then we're as bad as him.' Harry sounded beyond hope, and beyond care.

'Do you honestly believe that?'

Harry could not answer. 'What happens now?'

'I must arrange Melatiah's funeral. It will be done quietly; there is no reason to involve the Ministry.'

Harry nodded. 'Can she be buried in Godric's Hollow, do you think?'

'It can be done. Now we must leave. You will return to Hogwarts with me; I think that is for the best.'

'Just give me a moment, please?'

'Of course.' Dumbledore rose and left the room. He, too, needed a moment alone to mourn - and remember.

-o0o-

A funeral should not be held on such a day. The sky was a blue so rich and deep it could not possibly be made of anything as insubstantial as air. The trees and grass were so full of life they appeared bloated. The sounds reaching them across the fields, the lowing of cattle and bleats of sheep, were the sounds of life enjoying the richness and warmth of the sun. Summertime, and the living was easy.

It was not a day for death, and yet here they stood by the grave: Harry, Dumbledore, McGonagall and the old witch who had raised Melatiah as her own daughter. Just the four of them...and a box containing the mortal remains of a young girl. Mortal remains only, for her soul had departed at the same time as that portion of another soul. Both were gone, leaving only the shell behind.

The sound of approaching footsteps on gravel drew Harry's eyes from the coffin. Hermione and Ron were walking towards them, both dressed in black. Even the colour was wrong for a day like today.

Hermione already had her handkerchief to her face, and Ron had his arm around her shoulder. He looked pale, yet resolute. He was different - older, wiser, in some way. Every bad thought Ron had about himself came home to roost in the scene before him. He had not known, and Hermione had tried to protect him. He had been jealous of Harry's girlfriend, and now she was dead. He had felt excluded from the group, but could he have done what they had done?

Hermione had come to him at The Burrow and told him what had happened. She had killed the girl with her own hands. Ron questioned if he could have done the same, or would he have frozen? Yet Hermione had come to him to apologise. He could never be the person she was, but she had sought him out to explain - and to seek comfort. As he'd held her in his arms he convinced himself he could never match his friends, never be their equal, but he was a part of the team and would bring whatever he could to it. He had found his role, and it eased him.

They nodded silent greeting to each other and Hermione hugged Harry, too upset to speak to him. She linked arms with him and Ron and they turned to face the grave.

Dumbledore levitated the coffin gently into its final resting place, and they stood with heads bowed. He spoke first.

'We are here because great evil stalks our world. When we choose to fight it we do so knowing that there will be casualties, and that the innocent will suffer as much, if not more, than the guilty; for that is the nature of evil. Melatiah represented all that was innocent, all that was kind. There are no words to ease our grief, and we know that Melatiah will not be the last to suffer. But we will stay strong and resolute, so that her death will not have been in vain.'

Harry closed his eyes and looked away, trying to block out Dumbledore's words. They were fine words, but empty. There was no honour, no grace in their task. It was a grim war of attrition; kill or be killed. In the end there would be the living and the dead, as in any war, and the survivors would write the history to portray themselves in the best light.

If he lived, or his side won, he would be a hero. If he died - then it didn't really matter. No, it mattered. He knew that, deep down. Ultimately he knew, as we all do, that there is a difference between right and wrong. He was fighting so that there would be no more need for war. He hoped so, anyway.

He couldn't look as the grave was filled in. That was too much to bear so he turned and walked away, indicating to Ron and Hermione that he would like them to come with him. Hermione took his hand in her free one, so that she was connected to both him and Ron. The three friends were back together once more.

They walked in silence. Neither Ron nor Hermione knew how to say anything to Harry that would not sound trite and superficial. This was not the time for "Chin up" or "Life goes on", or even "It will get better". They knew Harry wanted to say something, so just gave him the space to organize his thoughts.

When they reached the shade of an old oak he indicted that they should sit, leaning back against the massive trunk. It felt so sturdy, so dependable.

'I couldn't have done it, Hermione. It had to be you. I'm sorry about that.'

'Don't be, I understand.'

'Dumbledore told me about the book, and why he gave it to you.'

'He used me. I'll never forgive him for that.'

Harry leant his head against hers. 'You should. You're the best; he didn't use you. I see that now; he chose you because you're the only one who could have worked it out.'

'No. He used me because I was the only one vain enough to be flattered by his compliments. He knew I'd read the book because it would give me an edge over everyone else.' Hermione had lost a lot of innocent in the past few days.

Ron reached over and stroked her cheek. 'Not vain, you just want to be the best you can. It isn't a crime.'

Harry nodded, 'You are what you are; the smartest witch of your generation. Sirius knew that, and he was no fool.'

She started to say 'Oh, Harry…', but he interrupted her.

'Nor am I. Have you worked out the next bit yet?' She looked at him cautiously. 'You know, don't you?'

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. 'I'm sorry.'

Ron looked from one to the other. 'What?'

'She knows that I'm a horcrux, too.' Ron gasped in horror. 'When did you work that bit out?'

'A while ago', she whispered.

'But you didn't tell me?'

'No.'

'Why?'

She fell forward, burying her face in her hands. 'I couldn't. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't. I can't be a true Gryffindor, can I? Not being a coward like that.' She looked at Harry, her face distraught. 'I couldn't.'

'I understand.' Harry put his hand on her arm. 'Honestly, I do. I'm not blaming you. Maybe I've always suspected it myself.'

He stared off over the churchyard. A Yew tree stood in the corner where it had grown for a thousand years. It had seen plague and famine many times in its long life. It had provided bows for English archers fighting their petty human wars, and was here still. It would see Harry turn to dust whether he died now, or peacefully in his bed of old age. He turned his face to the freshly dug earth that covered Melatiah.

'I'm not living, am I? I'm existing, surviving. I can't have a life whilst Voldemort's here. That's what the prophecy really means. The same goes for him, too; we're both trapped by it. I have to face him, because he has to destroy me before he can die.' He gave a harsh, juddering laugh. 'I bet he doesn't realise it. He's wanted me dead all these years, but I'm keeping him alive. His victory will be his downfall. I'm sure there's a name for that; there should be.'

'Pyrrhic' said Hermione.

Harry laughed again, quieter this time. 'I knew you'd know.' Then his face grew serious again. 'So I go on. I keep going until I face him and let him destroy both of us.'

'No, Harry. Please.'

'I've got no choice. This is my destiny and there's nothing I can do about it. It will happen, so I can either be dragged there kicking and screaming, or face him with my head held high. I know which one I want. He's going to see me as his equal and he's going to look me in the eye and know I'm not scared of him. He won't be expecting that. The last thing he'll know is doubt.'

'We'll be at your side, mate.' Ron hadn't understood a lot of the discussion, but he knew his friend needed his help. 'We'll be with you all the way.' Harry had shared his sweets with Ron on that first journey to Hogwarts, and that counted for a lot.

Harry couldn't give Ron a hug, which is what he wanted to do, so he punched him on the shoulder.

'Not all the way, not this time. You two will have to stay behind, eventually. I want you to have lots and lots of babies. You could even call one of them Harry - if you wanted.'

Hermione threw her arms around him and he could feel her tears running into his shirt. He lifted her face up.

'Hey come on, my brave Gryffindor; don't weep for me. Once it's over you two, and everyone else, will be safe and I'll be with Melatiah again. She had it all worked out, you know. We're going to live on a desert island all by ourselves.'

He gave Hermione a hug, and this time included Ron as well.

'It's not a bad plan, is it?'

_- Fin - _


End file.
